#i literally just stared at the screen and let tears fall for a bit and then got a sharp pain in my chest

[pommigranite]

pov you just finished watching one of @tapakah0's animatics and now you have to kinda just live in the world for the rest of your life and also draw like five different things but irrelevant

moving turtle drawings make heart hurty in the best way

tapa your work is superbly skillful, and please remember to take breaks and take care of yourself <3 (dont mess up your wrist like i did lol)

[yazmarina]

super trouper

for hit play, a drabble event.

—"part of a success that never ends, still i'm thinking about you only " (super trouper by abba)

charles leclerc (f1) x afab!reader

warnings/notes: exes to ?, hint of second chance romance

a/n: short and sweet on my return. i hope all the charles girlies and non-girlies like this <3

You really shouldn't be here. You had no reason to turn up at this race weekend, save for the fact that your friend was also going and she urged you to go for her sake.

Right. You're doing this for her. No one else. Certainly not for the hometown hero.

His face is everywhere and so are the eyes that seem to gape at you. People's eyes follow you with curiosity, double takes and soft gasps when they realize who you are.

It takes all your self-control not to roll your eyes under the heat of their stares. Are they not aware that I live literally a bus ride away? I spend half of my time in Monaco, anyway. Why is everyone freaked out that I'm here?

You can already read the gossip headlines in your mind.

"Do you want to grab some lunch first?" Your friend asks, gesturing to the huge hospitality building that overlooked the pitlane.

You nod, wanting nothing more than to be indoors and away from prying eyes. "Sure."

The two of you make your way inside and you're relieved to see that people are sparse here, not a single one of them giving you any mind. You settle in a booth at the very end of the floor, letting your friend have a go first at the buffet of food laid out.

You idle with your phone for a bit, already seeing your inbox count tick upward. You've been here for an hour and it seems as if the whole paddock has already seen you.

You lock your phone in frustration.

You really shouldn't have come. Not when the breakup barely six months ago was shrouded in so much speculation and drama. It's not as if your relationship with Charles exploded into a world-stopping mess. It just slowly but surely crumbled, all the gossip chipping away at the love you once shared. You know all this was part of it—the dedicated pages to scrutinizing you, your looks, your behavior, the news about you and your ex still coming out half a year after you split, the constant barrage of questions about Charles, Charles, always about Charles.

But it was indeed always about Charles.

Even you being here, in Monte Carlo today, was about him.

You promised you'd see him race at home when you were still together. It wasn't your fault the relationship would be that short-lived.

But, still. You promised.

You unlock your phone once more, opening up the message thread you had with Charles. The last text was from him, asking if you'd be in France this week. You never answered back.

'Hi Charles.'

You cringe at the formality but with a deep breath, you continue to type.

'Yes, I'm still here. I'll be watching today with a friend. Wishing you all the luck :)'

-

The grip you had on your seat could have been enough to crush someone's hand.

The wide-screen TV in hospitality flashed the bright red Ferrari of your ex-boyfriend, leading the race, five laps away from victory. A victory at his home race, with his dream team, his people cheering him on.

Your heart hammers against your chest and you feel rigid all over, nerves and anticipation taking ahold of you. Your friend looks over and you meet her eyes, and you know at that moment what she's thinking. She smiles, reaching for your hand, and squeezes.

Regardless of what became of you and Charles, it's hard not to feel as if this was your dream too. All the late nights and missed dates and the pain and scrutiny were for this. For him to achieve this very dream.

You feel tears start to well in your eyes as Charles enters his final lap. The people around you are already jumping out of their seats, egging him on, closer and closer to the chequered flag.

As Charles drives past the finish line, the whole world seems to erupt in cheers but it's all tuned out as your tears start to finally fall. You don't notice the gentle shake of your shoulders as hundreds of emotions crash down on you.

You let your friend pull you into a hug, hiding your tear-streaked face from the world.

The podium celebrations right after didn't help much with your attempt at keeping a casual, level-headed facade. Your nose is stuffy and you haven't stopped crying since the race ended. The slow recognition from the people around you isn't lost on you, either.

But it's hard to care when Charles stands on the top step of the podium, beaming as his national anthem blares. It's more difficult yet, fighting the urge to run to wherever he is just so you could jump into his arms and tell him how proud of him you are, how much you miss him, how much you still love him.

Instead, you turn to your friend, hicupping through your tears as you ask if they can come with you back to the paddock.

-

"You're here."

You smile sheepishly as Charles stops just as he's about to enter the Ferrari motorhome. The calls of his name and murmur from the fans around you tailing him through the paddock are drowned out, your whole body seemingly rooted in place as the familiar green eyes look into yours.

"Yes," you respond plainly, suddenly at a loss for words. Clearing your throat, you step closer and Charles automatically opens his arms for a hug.

"Congratulations, Cha," you say, voice muffled into his shoulder as he pulls you against his chest.

"Thank you." Charles beams at you as he pulls away. The smell of champagne is still strong on him but you pay it no mind, wanting nothing more than for everyone to disappear so you could share even a fraction of a moment with him. Just him.

"Did you cry, mon cœur?" Charles asks, looking at you closely. Your jaw drops open at his use of your old pet name and he, too, pauses and blinks as he realizes what he's done.

Charles laughs, a hint of nervousness in his voice, and you can't help but giggle along. It's awkward and it's not ideal, but being this close to him brings a certain ache in your heart, more sweet than painful.

"I'll see you later, okay?" Charles declares, gently taking hold of your arm. "Promise. I'll see you."

You nod, smiling up at him. Tears prickle in your eyes again and you quickly blink them away, mortified at what everyone would think about you crying in front of your ex after his home race win.

Charles leans in and delivers a peck on your cheek, quickly rubbing your back before turning to finally enter the motorhome. He gives you one last wave before disappearing behind the glass doors.

[shidouswhore]

can I make a request ? 💗

About reader working as a stripper in a nightclub in which Shidou ofc is a regular guest x3 and him wanting to fuck reader so badly since shes his fav dancer there and reader always saying no until one night... 😏 Yk, pretty please, i need this so badly 😭💗🖤

mmm!! im literally drooling. here ya go :p

warnings: slight stalkerish behaviour, teeny tiny daddy kink, cumdump (?), dumbification, little bit of angst!, licking..?, dacryphilia, biting, root/hair pulling n tugging, slapping, rough sex!! :( ok this is getting too long

“cmooon, babe—“ his annoying voice called out to you yet again, for the.. 1, 2, 3, 4.. you lost count’th time this evening.

you had to admit, he was hot, and paid a good amount of money… just not your type. stripping wasn’t easy, with the amount of strange, men flooding in through the doors each night. you had your fair share of desperate ones, and he was no different. shidou, was it? though, he pleaded for you to just call him “daddy ryusei”, a hand already grabbing at yours as if a big, shiny, glowing, neon pink sign saying “don’t touch the employees” wasn’t on the wall behind him.

you simply rolled your eyes, snatching your hand away from his as you walked away, your hips moving with each step you took, a handful of the men turning their heads towards you.

you sighed deeply as soon as you go to the back, crashing against the couch as your fellow coworkers gossiped and giggled about the “hot blondie” outside.

as if, he’s a total weirdo once he opens that pretty mouth of his.

it had been a few weeks, and that strange man still hadn’t left you alone. every night he was there in the crowd, a grin on his face as he waved to you, fuchsia eyes trained on the way your body moved so well.

of course, he didn’t stop his pursuit to get in your pretty little pants— coincidentally parking his car next to yours, leaving when your shift ended, etc.

you sighed, legs slightly shaking with each step you took as you walked through the lobby’s doors, the cold night’s air hitting your face as the glass slid open.

it had been a tiring shift, and you just wanted to get home to your boyfriend.

he supported you when you brought up the idea of getting into stripping, and was actually happy for you… or so you thought.

as soon as you got home, the sounds of erotic moans and the bed frame thumping against a wall reverberated against your ears.

your eyes widened, and you immediately ran to your bedroom, not bothering to slip out of the uncomfortable heels on your feet.

there he was, your boyfriend, balls deep inside your best friend.

“k-keep going john!” she’d squeal, eyes squeezed shut as she approached her orgasm— a confused and ugly pout appearing on her chapped lips as she peered up at YOUR boyfriend. “what is it?” she’d inquire, turning her head to the direction the man was looking at, her expression falling as she realised…

“it’s not what it looks like, i swear! let us explain!” they’d shout in a panic, scrambling to throw their clothes on to preserve at least a little of their dignity, their pleas falling on deaf ears as you backed away from the bedroom, back hitting against the hallway’s wall, your head coincidentally bumping a photo of you and your ‘loyal and loving’ boyfriend, whom you thought you’d marry, off of the wall.

you wasted no time in turning around and dashing out the door, sore fear carrying you towards your car where you dug into your purse, trembling hands gripping onto your phone.

you pulled the device out, staring into your reflections as your tears fell against the screen with little splashes, the sound of the two people you trusted most begging for forgiveness and spewing whatever excuses they could come up with.

you looked down at the receipt in your expensive handbag, eyebrows furrowing as you thought out your next decision. you didn’t want to dwell on it too long, and quickly plucked the piece of paper out and dialed in the number— his number, the man from your strip club.

you don’t even know why you did it, maybe because you were angry, sad, stressed…

“helloooo?” his voice rang through the speakers unnaturally loud, his tone falling silent at the sound of sniffles. “um..?”

“hello,” you whimpered into your phone, tears falling down your cheeks as your breath began to quicken, watching your own boyfriend and best friend walk back into your house, clearly going to continue their little “drunken mistake” you had walked into. “can i come over? what’s your address?” you almost sobbed, hoping that he’d recognise you. “this is… shidou, correct?”

“oh, my lovely name!” he’d cry out, immediately adding you as a contact as he typed in his address for you. “don’t cry sweetheart,” he’d coo, voice growing low. he had to admit, the sound of your tears turned him on slightly. and it was finally his chance to fuck your enticing pussy, oh damn— he was hard again. “how far away are you, babe?” he’d hum, standing up from his couch as he strolled towards his bedroom, feet falling against the carpet in heavy footsteps before he opened his drawer, flicking through the various toys stored in there.

“i-i’m around 10 minutes away, see you soon.” was all you said to the blonde, slim fingers wrapping around the gear stick, your pretty manicured snails sparkling under the streetlamp’s dull light, flickering under the starry sky.

shidou was quick to open the door as soon as he heard a few light knocks, his muscular arms trapping you in a bone-crushing hug. “are you alright?!” he’d say, his large hands not so discretely creeping down to your plush ass.

“m-my boyfriend cheated on me.” you sniffled, standing still as you let shidou’s hands wander, too many tears slipping from your eyes to care about anything else.

he frowned, leaning down as he kissed the corner of your eye, before a grin spread on his face. “it’ll be alright〜” he said, before licking softly at the salty tears streaming down your face; causing you to whimper out a quiet moan from the feeling.

from that point, you honestly didn’t remember much. he just tucked his hands beneath your thighs, picking you up and carrying towards your bedroom as his nose nuzzled your tear-stained cheeks.

so you found yourself sprawled out on the creepy man’s bed, the very same man who had waited at your work and begged to do many questionable things with you. he propped one of your pretty legs on his shoulder, occasionally kissing at the skin of your ankles as he roughly rolled his hips into yours.

tears rolled down your cheeks, sobs of pleasure leaving your plump lips. your body bounced back as shidou pounded into you, his thick cock ramming right into your sweet spot, your tear-filled eyes practically rolling into the back of your skull.

“r-ryusei!” you mewled as he leaned down to your neck, his sharp canines biting down on your collarbone. he licked and sucked in response, a pornographic moan slipping from between his lips, wet with your spit from the previous make out sessions.

“sorry, sweets.” he’d giggle, kissing at the forming hickey, grinning to himself at the sight of the bruise. perfect, he thought.

you both knew this was only because you were feeling vulnerable and alone, you just wanted someone to fill you up and fuck you til’ you couldn’t even remember your boyfriend— no, ex’s actions.

his knuckled grazed your cheeks, the back of his palm gently wiping away your tears before he slipped two thick fingers past your lips.

your back arched off of the bed, sweet moans and whimpers being muffled by the fingers pushed into your mouth. you sucked gently on his fingers, tongue swirling obediently as your thigh twitched, you were getting close.

he knew it, he could tell by the way your moans grew quieter and how your breath quickened. “it’s okay baby, you’re close aren’t ya? just sit tight and mmh-“

he tilted his head back as you clenched down on him, gushing all over his big cock and heavy balls without warning, an eager and desperate moan leaving your lips as your eyes screwed shut, long and curled eyelashes fluttering.

he fucked into you with a few more thrusts, relishing in the way your pretty little pussy feels after waiting for so long.

soon enough, he grew closer and closer, pulling out of your greedy folds before shrugging your leg off, his fingers parting from your lips with a soft ‘pop!’ before he jerked himself off, shooting ropes and ropes of his sticky cum onto your breasts, smiling at the bruises ranging from a deep shade of red to a pretty purple littered across your body.

after waiting for you for so, so, long, the many nights he spent stroking his cock to the thought of you and your naughty smiles, your dirty looks, your enticing curves…

oh shit, he’s cumming again.

he collapsed onto you, panting softly as a hand reached to push a few strands of your hair behind your ear. “ya feeling alright, sweetheart?” he’d ask, a sultry tone in his voice as he narrowed his eyes at you, a thick finger tracing your arm. “ya think you can handle another round?” he teased, poking at the fat of your hip.

he didn’t even wait for a response, simply planting his big hands onto your waist, flipping you over and pushing your head into the cushy mattress. he grasped a pillow, propping your ass up before slipping back into your folds. it was fairly easy, considering the amount of times he had made you cum that night.

he knew this was temporary, but he couldn’t help but think of you as a sweet little cumdump, a perfect cocksleeve for his large dick.

“ya take me so well, sweets〜” he’d chuckle, a breathy moan escaping his lips as he settled, before harshly pounding back into your pussy.

the wet and sloppy sounds of his bald slapping against your asscheeks echoed against the walls, your loud moans being swallowed by the bedsheets as your hands clutched at whatever you could.

with a particularly delicious thrust, he had you squirting all over his dick, a satisfied smirk on his face as he continued, a hand slamming down against a cheek.

you whined, tears forming in your eyes once again.

“ryuuu—“

SLAP!

“come on, pretty baby. just keep that mouth of yours for moaning, alright? don’t wanna hear—“ he thrust into your folds, groaning before he continued. “i don’t wanna hear another word come out of your mouth other than ���daddy’ or ‘yes, that’s it’ okay?”

you couldn’t even comprehend any of his words at this point, mind consumed by the way his tip was kissing your cervix, fucking you better than you’ve ever felt before.

why didn’t you let him hit earlier? if you knew he was this good you would’ve dumped that cheating son of a birch earlier.

“right there—!” you scream into the comfy bed, and ryusei grinned in response, slapping your ass once again.

“ya like that? my cute little slut.”

maybe it was wrong for him to call you ‘his’.. but he couldn’t help it, not with the way you were taking his dick so good, just like an obedient little whore. his obedient little whore.

“mine, mine.” he found himself growling about making you his as you came once again, your jaw slacked with drool dripping down your plush lips, eyes crossed together as you mumbled agreements to whatever he was saying.

“nobody’s ever fucked ya like this, huh?” he asked, a hand planting itself in your roots as he tugged, pulling your face up as he leaned down to your ear, his words almost barely being heard.

you nodded in response, a sob leaving your lips as shidou tugged again.

“tell me, tell me who’s fuckin this needy little girl so good? who is it?” he hissed, voice growing louder and louder with each harsh thrust of his hips.

“y-you areee!”

“who?!”

“daddy ryusei!”

@erea01 @shironagi @isagispuzzlepiece

note: i am working on another request, so be ready!! love ya :3

[gretavanfleetposts]

Give Me Shelter

Author's Note: The long awaited sequel to Make Her Happy that literally no one asked for lol here's the first part

Content Warnings: dirty talk, penetrative sex (18+ minors do not interact), swearing

Word Count: 5.5k

Jake stood on the other side of the door with a grin plastered to his lips that you knew he hoped would make up for the fact that it was him rather than his brother.

It almost did.

It doesn't.

Almost.

"He could at least call me," you said angrily without so much as a 'hello' in his direction before you turned and let him meander through the door in your pursuit. This was an occurrence you were getting all too used to and formalities had been done away with long ago. You certainly weren't in the mood tonight.

"Maybe he was worried he'd feel the icy stare through the screen," he quipped from behind you, placing the bouquet of flowers in his hands that you hadn't even noticed on the counter as he followed you into the kitchen.

"He'd deserve it if he did."

You were beyond frustrated with him truthfully. Josh had sent Jake in his place several times since the first, although the first time had been the only time things had gone as far as they had. But you were beginning to feel like you were dating his twin. Not that he wasn't good to you when he came over. He just wasn't the one you wanted.

Well, maybe it was a bit more complicated than that.

"You want me to fight with you? Let you pretend I'm him?"

"He wouldn't fight with me," you sighed as you rummaged around in your kitchen cabinets looking for a container large enough to hold the full meal you had cooked. "He'd be understanding and sweet and make me feel heard and it would annoyingly take all of the fight right out of me."

"I'll be me then and fight back," he said with a wide smile that you didn't return as you moved to put dinner into the tupperware you had pulled out. But when he saw what you were doing, his brows furrowed and the smile disappeared. "Woah, what are you doing? It's still hot, we should eat it."

"I don't want to. I'm just going to order something," you answered flatly.

"I can do that." He took your wrists in his hands to stop your movements, even as you tried to pull them away. "Hey, wait, stop, I can do it. I'll put it away and do the dishes while the food is on its way. Just tell me what you're in the mood for."

It felt like a dam breaking as you let your face fall into his chest, his arms circling your body as tears began to flow.

"I just don't understand why he can't at least call or give me some kind of warning. He always does this, he does this more and more, and more and more I just feel like an accessory that sometimes he wants to wear and sometimes he doesn't."

"You're not an accessory to him, I promise you." He soothed you with a quiet voice and a hand snaking up into your hair to hold you against him. "He wanted to be here, he always does. It kills him that he's away so much but he really does love you."

"You're off, you have a break. Why are you here and he isn’t?"

"Well, I don't require nearly as much maintenance as that little diva," he answered with a laugh at his own joke. The joke didn't reach you though. It only seemed to solidify the feelings you'd been having more and more lately: Josh didn't have time for you.

"Come on," he jostled you from your thoughts before they could spiral, holding you away from him so he could meet your eyes. "You're hangry. Food will put things into perspective."

Food won't fix this.

Pizza does sound really good right now though.

You swiped tears away from your eyes with the back of your hand and sniffed back whatever waterfall needed desperately to fall.

"Pizza?" you asked quietly.

He smiled.

"Pizza it is. Go put your feet up; I've got this." He nodded toward the living room and with a sigh, you resigned to let him take care of things for the night. But before turning to head toward some actual relaxation, you met his eyes with gratefulness seeping into yours.

"Thank you."

"You can thank me later," he said with a smirk that had your stomach doing somersaults despite your internal reprimanding.

—

"Food's here."

Jake's voice woke you. Well, that and the smell of piping hot pizza. You hadn't realized you'd fallen asleep, hadn't even realized you'd been tired. But needing to cry often did that: lulled you into a frustrated slumber of avoidance.

"God, that smells so good," you commented, stretching and sitting up to make room for him on your couch as he set the large box down on the coffee table.

"I know. Way better than whatever you were cooking." He joked as he took a seat next to you, fiddling with the TV remote while you threw open the box and pulled out a piece.

"Be nice, I'm still hangry," you mumbled as you began eating in a way that betrayed how much the cheese was burning your tongue.

"I mean it," he added, dipping his head a little to see your face better. "You can yell at me if it would be cathartic."

There was a sincerity behind his eyes that warmed you. He always was too sweet to you, to do this so consistently. And surely he was busy some of those times. Never too busy for you though, it seemed. Because he always showed up.

Why do you always show up?

"Wouldn't be the same," you shrugged, abandoning the slice of pizza you had grabbed on a free space of the box as you decided to let it cool a bit more before you burned the rest of your mouth.

You felt his fingertips suddenly brush against your skin as he pushed hair behind your ear almost absentmindedly. And meeting his eyes, you saw more of that sincerity. But this time, your eyes plunged down to his lips, a movement that surely didn't go unnoticed as his followed suit. And you suddenly felt nervous under his gaze, anticipating what he might do as a result of that look and unsure of what that would mean to you.

"Jake…I don't know how much I'm in the mood for date night."

That's not true.

It was an easy way to put a swift end to the tension and had him dropping his hand back into his lap with a soft smile that didn't look the least bit wounded.

Maybe he's just good at hiding it.

"That's fine. I don't have to be Josh tonight. I can be whoever you want me to be."

You knew deep down what you wanted him to be that night but you didn't let yourself acknowledge it. You couldn't. Not before dinner, anyway.

"Can you be my friend right now?" you asked instead, ignoring how hot you suddenly felt and how good the exposed skin on his chest suddenly looked.

His smile widened a tinge as he caught the path of your eyes again but he didn't acknowledge it.

"Easiest thing in the world," he said in a soft voice, sitting back further as if to welcome whatever you were about to lay at his feet.

You sighed and turned your eyes toward the pizza box as you thought about it, the fact that Josh wasn't there and Jake was.

"I'm so proud of you all but it's getting harder. Undeniably. And I just don't see him ever having the time for me. At least not more than he does now. And even now, the time he has for me is…dwindling."

"Have you told him this?"

"No," you admitted. "Not lately and not in those words. With the tour ramping up and having him home this week, I was trying not to give him anything to dwell on on the road. No distractions."

Maybe that was stupid but you hated the idea of him being far away and worried about your relationship. You hated the idea of him being onstage and not being able to fully enjoy it, worried about you the entire time.

"You're part of his life, not a distraction. If he wants to make this work, he'll have to find a better balance. I think he'd understand that if you just talked to him."

Maybe he couldn't make up for the lost time. Or maybe you'd grown too attached to what seemed to always be right in front of you, like you'd been an afterthought for too long.

That's not fair to Josh and you know it.

"Aren't you worried he's gonna stop sending you?" You shot Jake a smile that masked the thoughts you'd begun to spin in your mind. But he only shook his head and sighed heavily.

"He knows I'm not the answer," he said candidly.

You thought about that for a moment before meeting his gaze again and asking the obvious.

"Then why does he keep sending you?"

"Because I'm always free," he suddenly smiled, masking his own thoughts he'd begun to spin in his mind, surely.

You couldn't stop your own smile, even knowing it wasn't the truth.

He was quiet a moment, turning away to face the TV you'd both been ignoring and the pizza that was cooling as he seemed to lose himself in thought. But god, he looked pretty that way. You hated to admit it but he did. He was a good listener and easy to listen to. He'd been your sounding board for the past few months on the date nights he'd filled in for, helping you finish off bottles of wine and working through a list of classic movies one or both of you had never seen. He'd eaten countless dishes meant for you and Josh and even learned the card game you had meant to teach Josh, although he was a much poorer sport than his twin would have been. But still, it had made you laugh watching him try to cheat using the reflection of the wine glass sitting in front of you and throwing the cards all over the table when he'd been caught. He'd only done it because you'd been crying when he had arrived and he was determined to take your mind off the obvious. And then there were the flowers, which were becoming a more common occurrence…

"Did you talk about it the first time after I left?"

You felt like you were pulled out of a reenactment of a dream but you knew without asking what he was referring to.

The first time. When you said filthy things to me and I loved it.

"No. It didn't feel like we needed to. We just woke up and went about our day together."

Like nothing even happened.

"Maybe that's why he sends me," Jake suggested. "He isn't worried about it."

You were unsure what to make of it and even more unsure of what to say. So instead, you nodded silently and reached for your pizza, deep in thought and ignoring whatever Jake put on the TV despite your eyes fixing to it. And you ate mindlessly for what felt like a long moment before you finally spoke again, a half-baked sentiment that was more formed out of anger and frustration than anything else.

"I'm not dating you though, I'm dating him. He could act like it."

Jake didn't turn to you.

"Is this your way of telling me you want me to leave?"

"No. It's better than being alone."

"Well, I'd hardly call that a raving review," he laughed, seeming to fake hurt that was probably somewhat real.

"It is nice of you to do this," you quickly added, getting a glimpse of how it had sounded without.

"I don't mind," he answered before taking a bite of pizza that effectively jumbled his words as he continued speaking. "Not in the slightest."

"Well, to be fair, you got to fuck me so no, I imagine you don't mind."

He looked somewhat shocked as he tried to swallow his bite rather than choke, mumbling out a, "Jesus-", that you didn't let him finish.

"Am I wrong?"

"I don't keep coming over here with my hopes up if that's what you're implying."

Would it be so bad if you did?

"You don't think about it?" you questioned, feeling emboldened by God knew what and hoping, praying even, that you liked his answer, especially given how much you'd thought about it as of late.

Fucking annoying, honestly. He could have at least done me a favor and been bad in bed. Maybe that would have made things easier.

"Of course I think about it," he admitted, "I think about it all the fucking time. It's indecent how much I think about it."

That brought a smile to your face, one that you couldn't stifle even if you tried.

"But I'm happy with whatever you're happy with," he continued. "I don't come over here expecting anything. I'll take whatever you want to give me, whatever that means for you. I told you, I'm whoever you want me to be and that, tonight, is friend."

I don't want you to just be my friend tonight.

You played with the hem of the oversized t-shirt you were wearing, suddenly far less hungry than you had been as you thought about what he was saying and how he had made you feel over the past few months.

And why does he always have to look so fucking good?

"What if I didn't want it to just be friend?" you asked hesitantly, unsure of how he'd respond.

It suddenly felt more dire that he could find a way to make that work too, as easily as he could the friend part.

God, you were nervous.

"Then I'd say can you at least let me finish my pizza before you jump me? Geez," he joked, presumably not taking you seriously.

So you tried again.

"I mean after," you responded with a much more serious look, "when this horrible movie you put on thinking I wouldn't notice is over and the leftover pizza is cold and he still isn't here. What will you be then?"

He leaned forward to discard his crust back in the box and brush off his hands before he drew in a long breath, fuel for the thought he was trying to carefully voice.

"After," he began slowly, "when the movie is over and the leftover pizza goes cold…and Josh still isn't here…" He paused to look at you, something cryptic written in his features that you wished you could shake out of him. You needed his thoughts and his honesty to help you mitigate yours. You felt far too alone in your desires at the moment, the one person who never seemed to hold back finally doing just that. "I'll walk you to your room and I'll tuck you in. And if you ask me to stay, I'll stay. Because I'm your friend."

You gave him an understanding nod and a quiet, "Okay," before turning back to the pizza.

—

You couldn't even say what the movie was about. It was a documentary that had started about aliens but somehow had drifted well into pirate territory in a confusing arc that you clearly hadn't followed. To be fair, you were watching without seeing, hearing without listening, enraptured in a swirl of self-destructive thoughts that actually weren't so self-destructive but more left a path of destruction in their wake. And just as predicted, hands stopped reaching for slices of pizza and cheese stopped boiling over the edges as the air took it to its chilly grave. The movie somehow came to a meaningful conclusion that only really meant something to you because credits rolled across the screen. And Josh still wasn't there.

"You look tired," Jake commented after a moment of sitting in darkness next to you, the only light being the tiny white names scrolling across the screen.

God, how many people could it have possibly taken to make that?

"I could sleep," you lied. Well, maybe you could sleep but that wasn't what you intended to do.

Nonetheless, he nodded and stood silently, taking the pizza box to the kitchen and returning to take your hand and lead you from the couch to your bedroom, implication suddenly heavy in the air as he led.

He said nothing as he stood in the doorway letting you walk past him into the room, nothing as you approached your bed before turning back to face him, nothing as you waited for a move he clearly wasn't going to make on his own.

"I think about it too, you know. The first time…" You trailed off without further explanation, your hands suddenly fiddling with the hem of your oversized shirt as you hoped it incited some action on his part.

Jake was silent for a beat before understanding washed over his face and he nodded quickly.

"I’m flattered," was all he said with a soft, almost shy smile as he finally crossed the room to your bed to pull down the comforter, turning expectantly, waiting for you to get in.

He wasn't typically one to be humble but there was something endearing about the rosy hue growing brighter on his cheeks. It almost reminded you of Josh to be honest. And you weren't sure if that made it worse given how much you wanted him.

Without any warning, instead of climbing into bed as he'd expected you to do, you closed the space between you and pressed your lips to his jaw, reveling in the sound of a sudden hushed inhale as he instinctively leaned into the feeling. But his words, hushed and quiet as he spoke them as if he were hoping you wouldn't hear, betrayed the struggle in his mind that was much less willing than his body.

"I think this is a bad idea…" he trailed off quietly as he tilted his chin ever so slightly to let your lips continue their attack along his jaw. And when he heard no response from you, you felt his Adam's apple bob with a gulp as he mustered up the strength to speak again. "I know that you're upset-"

"You said he wasn't worried," you interjected quickly as your mouth moved to his neck where you felt goosebumps prickling against your lips and tongue. You continued your movements as your hands weaved their way into his linen shirt, only to be met by his hands grasping your biceps as if he were going to stop you but the fight had evaded him before he could.

"I know what I said-"

"I just want to feel you," you said finally, pulling your face away to look him in the eyes and put your desperation on display for him.

He was better than being alone. Far better. And fuck, you wanted him.

He seemed to give in almost immediately as his lips found yours more earnestly, losing himself finally in the way you tasted. It felt like a relief to have his hands on you, any hands really as the nights you'd spent alone had grown longer.

"This is the last time," he murmured against your lips as his hands traveled up under your baggy t-shirt to explore the smooth skin that lay beneath.

You agreed with a half-hearted hum on your lips as your own hands traversed over the thin material of his shirt, slipping downward in search of the belt he always wore. You worked quickly to pull it off, setting your hands to work on the button and zipper as it clamored to the floor.

"I mean it," he mumbled again, never really pulling his mouth from yours entirely.

His hands were warm on your skin and did their best to distract from what he was saying, words you'd process later when your mind was no longer numb and flooded with him alone. If there was a line you were crossing, you'd see it in the morning when you woke, drawn perfectly on the floor and smudged only where you and Jake had danced across it.

"Yes, sir," you whispered that time, pulling back ever so slightly to bat your lashes up at him, only to be greeted with an eye roll in return. But a smile adorned his lips nonetheless.

"Gonna get me in trouble," he whispered back as he shook his head, the rosiness of his cheeks growing hotter and redder thanks to your mouth and hands on him, now prying his shirt from his body to send it floating to the floor.

He pushed into you again, squishing any space between you so you sent your arms circling his shoulders instead. He held you closely too, hands pulling you in at your waist impossibly closer even while he walked you backward toward the edge of your bed. You felt magnetized to him, utterly incapable of prying yourself from him even as the thought of Josh's impending arrival swirled somewhere in the back of your mind.

Jake started with the hem of your leggings, tucking his fingers in and doing his best to work them down your legs without his mouth so much as leaving yours. And when the material moved beyond his reach, he helped you shimmy them down the rest of the way and step out of them. And the moment your legs were freed, he spun the two of you so he could take a seat on the edge of your bed and pulled you into his lap.

Pulling his face away from yours finally and letting his hands drop to his jeans to finish the work you had started, he spoke again in a much more serious voice, gravelly and grave.

"You're going to ride me. Take exactly what you want from me."

It was a little glimpse of the Jake he had been the first time he had filled in for date night. And it was exactly what you hadn't realized you were missing.

"Can you do that for me?" he asked as he freed himself and coaxed you into a hover over him with one hand at your hip while the other pulled your panties to the side.

You were speechless, his eyes boring into yours and his hands guiding you even without your answer until the head of his cock brushed your entrance. Your eyes watered with anticipation, every muscle in your body tense as you waited to feel him push inside. And not a single word formed on your tongue or a single thought in your mind.

"Yeah, I think you can," he answered for you with a smirk on his lips and his hand wrapped around himself, already guiding it into you. "And I'm gonna talk you through it."

With his arm snaked around your waist, he brought you down onto his cock in one swift motion, earning a sharp gasp from you as he filled you, a sudden stretch that felt somehow more delicious than it had the first time. Maybe because you knew what you had been missing out on this time around.

"Fuck, I missed you," you breathed, your eyes falling shut for a moment while your thighs warmed against his and the familiar sting of the stretch began to turn to pleasure.

His hands moved to your hips, finding the skin just under the material of the oversized shirt you still wore and digging into the skin there, not so hard so as to leave bruises but hard enough to keep you steady as you leaned forward to drop your forehead against his shoulder, suddenly overtaken by feelings you didn't quite understand.

He felt the shift, something akin to desperate to have him turned desperate to keep him. He felt it in your hot breath against his neck, felt it in the heat radiating from every point on your body, felt it in the unsteady beat of breaths you were taking, almost overtaken by the fierce pounding of your heart as desire and hurt and guilt all fought to take hold of your body. But he didn't retreat from what he felt, only held you that much tighter.

"Are you still with me?" he asked softly, just above a whisper against the shell of your ear, a brief pause from the man he seemed to become when in your bedroom.

You were with him. Maybe a little too with him, you realized. Josh had sent his brother to the rescue so many times, you were beginning to want to be rescued.

"I'm with you," was all you answered back, saving him from your inner turmoil in hopes he'd let you keep going through it.

He seemed keen to let you, too. Or maybe keen to let himself was more accurate. Regardless, wherever your mind had begun to drift, you were suddenly snapped back into place within his arms as he breathed out a rather unfair, "Good girl," and pulled your hips forward once, sliding you easily along his cock thanks to the slick that had been building since the moment you had seen him standing there at your front door. Shamelessly.

"Shit, Jake," you hissed as searing hot pleasure seeped into your body the longer you warmed around him. It incited you to move your hips, slowly at first, searching for that delicious push and pull and stretch of him inside you that felt like a too-distant memory.

He dipped one arm around your waist as his other curled up over your back to bury his hand in your hair, keeping your forehead pressed into his skin as he mumbled words of encouragement. Not that you needed encouraging. His cock, thick and hot inside of you was certainly encouragement enough.

"Ride it, just like that," he murmured as your hips worked up into a steady rhythm. "Just like that, that's it."

You clung to him as you did, clung to the feeling of being full, of his arms holding you. And it only spurred you on, your movements quickening their pace as you moved around him and the sound of skin on skin and both of your heavy breathing began to fill the room. Gentle curses whispered in nothing but a breath betrayed his always cool and casual demeanor and only seemed to fuel the feeling growing hot in your abdomen.

You slid easily along his cock, up and down, taking him fully each time before retreating. His arms helped you move too, encouraging your pace and squeezing you hard like you were grounding him even though you were certain it was the other way around.

"You're so fucking perfect like this," he whispered against your hair, the words punctuated by a noise you'd never quite heard him make, a shameless moan that you suddenly felt desperate to hear again. But having let the sound slip, he seemed to regain his control as he used his grip in your hair to pull your face back to meet his eyes. They were glassy, almost glazed over with euphoria, his lips parted as he struggled and failed to breath evenly, a thin sheen of sweat forming on his forehead and matting his hair to it. He was breathtaking, as usual.

"Jesus fuck, Jake," you breathed, your voice hitching in your throat as the words turned into a pathetic noise.

"Yeah? Tell me all about it," he asked in a breathy, hushed voice like it was a secret meant only for the two of you. "Did you miss me, beautiful? Does that feel as good as you remember?"

Better.

You gave him a desperate nod, answering all and none of his questions at once, your brows furrowed and bottom lip sucked between your teeth and the tension building within you clearly visible on your face.

He nodded back with a whisper of a smirk on his lips, breathless as he was himself. "Yeah, poor thing missed my cock, didn’t she? Tell me how good I feel," he urged.

"Fuck, Jake, you feel so good," you practically chanted, stealing a moment to gaze down at where the two of you connected while something about blurred lines fizzled out of view in the back of your mind. "So fucking good."

Like you belong here with me.

A groan ripped its way through his chest as his hips began lifting slightly to meet each of your downward motions, driving his cock into your sensitive spot with each thrust and only making you want to ride him that much harder despite the burn creeping up into your knees.

"You take it so well for me, such a fucking good girl," he praised you through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw. "Bouncing on it like you were fucking made for it, that's my pretty girl."

You reveled in his words and the way they heightened the pleasure of his cock pressing against that sweet spot inside of you on each inward thrust, pushing you closer and closer to your own orgasm.

He could see the impending release in your eyes, too, given the way he suddenly gripped you harder and brought his mouth close to your ear to whisper to you his words of encouragement, using one hand splayed flat against the bed to hold you both up. "I know you want to come. Let it go for me, I'll talk you through it just like I promised. I've got you, baby."

Fuck.

"God, Jake," you moaned against his throat, fighting through the strain of your muscles to ride him harder, to take him deeper and faster, wet noises now echoing obscenely through the room.

"Yeah, just like that, let it go," he urged in what was something like half-coherent words, half-moan. "I want you to come all over my cock. Make a mess of me like you're so good at doing." And then a light, "Fuck," after meant only for you.

You were close but it threatened to tumble back downward without reaching its peak, a mental block that you felt you were suddenly fighting, desperately trying to push through before you lost it altogether. But Jake's voice suddenly came softer, finding you in your struggle and bringing you back up to the surface.

"Just relax, let it happen," he coaxed as he took your jaw in his hand to direct your eyes to his, warm and inviting and safe. "I've got you, I'm with you. Just let me feel you."

Fuck.

With his words, you were done for. You felt it ripple through you lightly at first, quickly growing more intense as you pushed your body through it, spurred on by his continued movements matching yours. Your eyes struggled to stay open as it washed through you but watching you and, in turn, you watching him, seemed to push his own orgasm along. His own face began to show the control that was quickly evading him.

Suddenly he was flipping you onto your back, your bodies still connected, and driving into you as his name spilled from your mouth over and over again. Hiking your leg up over his shoulder, he pushed himself over the edge and you along with him for a second time, his hand still wrapped beneath your jaw but his forehead now falling against your sternum as he basked in it and fucked you both through it.

You each came down slowly, neither of you moving from your place where your arms still held one another. If reality was that he had to leave your arms, you didn't want to face it. But finally, with a sigh, Jake withdrew and pulled his exhausted self from your grasp to grab a towel and clean you up, cleaning himself up shortly after.

You maneuvered into the warm embrace of your comforter to watch him move about the room, collecting his shirt and belt and redressing silently before he crossed back over to you. But this time, he didn't join you under the covers. Instead he stood beside you and let his hand cradle your cheek for a moment, looking like he was memorizing your fucked out look. Or just all the little details he had missed.

"You should get some sleep," he said quietly, looking almost forlorn.

"I don't want you to go," you argued immediately, knowing his next steps would either carry him out the door or bring him to your side.

But he only shook his head, much to your disappointment.

"You said you would stay if I asked."

Maybe that was mean to throw at him but he had said it and you weren't really in a good place to be abandoned by another of the Kiszka brothers.

He swallowed hard and let his thumb swipe gently along your jaw. He looked…remorseful.

"Josh will be home soon. I think the two of you should talk. And I don't think I should be here when he gets here."

With only a quick kiss pressed to your forehead, he was out the door without another glance your direction before you had more time to protest, quietly padding through the home to collect his things. It wasn't until you heard the front door shut that you felt truly alone in your own home, wondering when Josh would arrive. And you felt tears well up in your chest and begin to spill from your eyes.

[hatsukeii]

Today, I’m thinking about… haikyuu + other anime characters that would end up in this situation…

warning(s): none!! this is pure crack and you can interpret it as friendship or a relationship but just don’t do ANYTHING that happens in this fic because my friend almost shat himself afterwards…

“Dude, don’t fuck with me, I’ll literally fly your ass to Brazil and fight you if you win another round.”

You cackle at his empty threat, the ‘one card left’ message on your side souring his glare at every passing second that it stays on the shared screen. Scared to wake the rest of your household, you slap a hand over your mouth, the laughs threatening to burst from your chest. It’s been two hours of playing UNO online, and he hasn’t been able to win a single round since twelve. Frankly, it’s getting a little embarrassing for him, but you aren’t one to back down from a threat.

“Is that a challenge? Let’s fuckin’ go then, what are you waiting for? Put the next card down and see, bitch.”

He gasps through the screen, a hand flying to his chest as he searches for some sort of witty retort, or some form of instant retaliation. Instead, his mouse clicks through the call, frantically picking his +4 colour changer. He’s going to win this time, he’s certain of it. He’s going to watch you pick up four useless number cards, and throw his final card down before you even have the chance to come back-

“GET SHIT ON!”

You slam your final +4 onto the game, eight new cards slotting themselves into his deck as the gold medal and confetti of UNO victory explodes on screen. You pump your fists in his face, and he slams his hands onto his head, dumbfounded.

“Is that even allowed? What the fuck!”

“Uh, doesn’t matter? Because the system says I won! You’re dogshit!”

He turns in his chair, spinning round and round and round blankly as he drowns in his utter loss of dignity and ego. How can he possibly win against you, when all he gets are useless numbers to start with, and you somehow happen to score every single power card possible?

“What, you gonna fight me now? In Brazil?” You taunt, and his screen goes white as the google search engine pops up. His fingers hammer at his keyboard at an impossible speed, scouring the Internet for the quickest flight to Brazil. He’ll just scare you into thinking he was serious for a bit, just to see the panic that he has endured in the final moments of every single UNO round plastered on your face.

“There’s no way you’re actually doing this right now.”

He clicks onto the next flight to Rio, Brazil, highlighting the details as if forcing you to remember them for later. Drawing circles with his cursor furiously, he reaches down for his duffel bag, pretending to shove necessities into it. A singular t-shirt goes in, then his hoodie, all while the cursor sits dangerously close to the purchase button beneath his presaved credit card details, already filled out in each field.

"The next flight we can feasibly catch is 8am tomorrow. I'm coming over right now to pick your ass up, and we're gonna fucking fight in front of Christ the fucking Redeemer in Rio, me and you."

He reaches for his bottle, his arm stretching across the screen for the hunk of metal. As his fingers grab at it, he misses, and the entire bottle topples onto his mouse.

Click.

"Thank you for your purchase. Your flight number is: RJ3992. Please scan the code below at check-in."

The laughs that have been pushed under your throat all erupt at once as you hold your stomach and fall backwards, tears spilling from your eyes. He stares at the purchase confirmation, eyes peeled open and mouth ajar as $3000 worth of money vanishes into thin air. He did not intend to fight you in Brazil, but he might actually have to now. Should he call his bank? Call the airlines? His questions are answered as his phone rings beside him. From the other side of the call, you hear his murmurs as he comes clear to the banker on the line.

"No...not sure how it happened...just saw the confirmation...refund it now?"

You stifle your laughter, resisting the urge to punch your table in shock as he bargains with the banker to refund the ticket he just bought to Rio de Janeiro at two in the morning. Finally, he rips the phone away from his ear, letting out a sigh of relief. You cackle, pointing at him in a fit of hysteria, and he scowls at you, giving you the nastiest side eye he can conjure up. Not only has he lost every single round of UNO tonight, he's also come close to putting his credit in the negatives. It's time to call it quits.

"Still wanna fight me, huh? Another round?"

"Don't fucking try me, or I'll call them for the ticket back."

Characters: Tanaka Ryunosuke, Nishinoya Yuu, Kuroo Tetsurou, Lev Haiba, Kentaro Kyotani, Terushima Yuji, Bokuto Koutaro, Tendou Satori, Suguru Daisho, Miya Atsumu, Hoshiumi Kourai, Bakugou Katsuki, Neito Monoma, Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu, Yo Shindo, Touya Todoroki, Aoi Todo, Gojo Satoru, Denji, Power + all your faves<3

author's note:

i can't make this shit up this actually happened to me once because the guy i was playing uno with kept losing and got upset and threatened to fight us all in brazil and then accidentally bought a 3000 dollar plane ticket to rio um???? bro had to call up the airline to cancel and then his bank had to call him at 3am to ask why he was suddenly withdrawing so much money i was about to piss myself laughing ngl

also IM FINISHED WITH FINALS!!! WOOOO!! CONFETTI!!!!

anyways tags!!

@starlysama @chuuya-brainrot @fiannee @bailey-reeds

ok love u guys see u soon bye bye

[reiiaokii]

love in transit

07. not even a little fruity?

scene seven in session …

megan's eyes sparkled with curiosity as she asked leaned into sophia who was busy typing up a document on her laptop, "sophia, who was the girl that dropped you off last night?"

sophia's expression was neutral. "oh, that's y/n. why?"

megan hesitated before responding, "okay, can you just hear me out first?"

sophia nodded, her tone cautious. "uhm, okay. go on. but i have no idea how this has anything to do with y/n."

megan's grin grew wider. "just listen."

sophia nodded again, her voice barely above a whisper. "listening..."

megan's eyes locked onto sophia's side profile as sophia had her head tilted to the side, still typing away at her screen. "you know how i was just sort of going ballistic about this girl on twitter?" megan admitted, who couldn't help but snicker a bit herself.

sophia snickered. "uh-huh."

megan's voice dropped to a whisper. "that might've been about your friend..."

sophia's eyes narrowed. "y/n?"

megan nodded, her voice barely audible. "yep..."

sophia's expression changed, her eyes widening in genuine surprise. "actually?"

megan groaned, throwing her hands up in the air dramatically. "oh lord."

the room fell silent, the tension palpable.

megan's voice broke the silence. "please don't kill me, manon had the same exact reaction and i totally understand it." megan stammered dramatically in a pathetic attempt at 'buttering' up sophia.

sophia's fingers hovered over the keyboard as she grinned to herself, her eyes wide with amusement. "wait, what?" megan only stared at sophia like a lost puppy. sophia burst out laughing, her eyes shining with mirth. "no, no, no, no, no. girl, i'm not mad."

megan's face lit up with a mock-happy expression, making sophia laugh even harder. "really?"

sophia's laughter subsided, her voice humming with amusement. "mm, maybe just a little now that i think about it." sophia laughed, meanwhile megan only rolled her eyes at sophia's sarcasm despite the growing-grin on her face.

"anyways," sophia hummed, wiping imaginary tears from her eyes. "why her? i might've been drunk at the time, but i'm pretty confident you wouldnt've even talked to y/n. or at least, she didn't talk to you."

sophia snickered teasingly, and megan sighed, letting out a dramatic groan in response. sophia laughed again.

"yeah, she didn't talk to me," megan admitted.

"not surprising," sophia huffed with a slight smile playing at her lips. "hate to break it to you, but she's already in a relationship, mei."

megan's eyes widened in surprise. "wait, what?"

sophia nodded, her expression turning serious. "yeah, she's dating mateo. mateo anderson."

sophia's face scrunched up in annoyance and immediately turned sour at the mention of mateo's name.

megan groaned, her voice laced with disappointment. "so she's not even a little fruity?"

sophia nodded, her lips creasing together into a line as she held in a snicker at her friends choice of wording.

"god, and she's dating mateo out of all people. everybody loves that guy for some reason, should've known."

megan let out another frustrated groan, and sophia hummed in agreement, her voice taking on a hint of annoyance. "i know, right?" sophia's expression turned bitter. "it's actually sickening to watch everyone on campus butter up to him."

"wait, didn't manon just tweet about him? the girl was literally threatening him on my twitter feed," megan huffed, a bitter laugh falling from her lips.

sophia briefly nodded her head up and down, her gaze more focused on the bright screen beneath her.

megan's curiosity was piqued. "do you know why though? because now i'm curious."

her eyes flickered to sophia's laptop screen, trying to get a glimpse of what sophia was working on.

sophia mumbled, "uh, long story, can't tell you, sorry mei."

megan's eyes widened in surprise as her curiosity only grew. "wait, what?"

she placed her palm on sophia's shoulder, pleading. "pleaseee, fifi."

megan groaned, gently shaking sophia as she continued typing on her computer. sophia was too engrossed in her laptop to pay megan much attention.

megan huffed again in mock annoyance. "ugh, fine then."

masterlist ᡣ𐭩 next

NOTES | lowkey short sry 😔

TAGLIST | @meizinisnumberone @hiraizyo @arihiu @artrizzler19 @1luvkarina @meiphobic @meganskiendielsbtc @fruityg0rl @kristalag @sunshinez4 @vrtualstar @yazzyminny ( closed .ᐟ )

[house-of-kolchek]

Dress (Part Two)

Leon Kennedy x Reader

OK I KNOW ITS BEEN A HOT MINUTE SINCE PART ONE BUT I LITERALLY REWROTE THIS THREE TIMES I APOLOGIZE

Also I love you all.

Word Count: 3.6k

Part One (18+)

Ok this is slightly (significantly) more drama than I was initially planning so. Enjoy my tears.

You didn’t get your dress dry cleaned. 

In fact, for a long time it remained in that pile, pooling at the foot of your bed. You were too afraid to call at first, your stomach churning with guilt, rejection and most of all, shame. And finally, two weeks later when you did try to call, the phone didn’t make it three rings before it was sent to voicemail.

So, with growing resentment in your eyes, you turned your phone off completely.

But still, as you stopped seeing him at work, that nagging itch in the back of your mind convinced you to ask around - even begging Hunnigan to assure you that yes, he was still alive in the least.

With that knowledge, you resigned to staring at the dress on your floor. The rumples in your sheets from your unmade bed - having not properly made it since that night. You felt like you were going crazy, biting at your nails and asking question after question to yourself in the silence.

Was he more drunk than you thought?

Did he think it was something else?

Did he regret it - did you ruin something over a one night stand?

The six week mark came and went. You’d finally picked up your dress a week prior, dumping it into a bag for donation, or just garbage, you weren’t quite sure. At this point, that stain was probably cemented into the fabric. You’d gone through a deep cleanse of your room, your apartment, anything to push away the plaguing memories of that night. If Leon wasn’t going to get back in contact with you, you would just have to move on.

Which was, of course, easier said than done. 

“Raven two- are you still with me?” The voice in your ear snapped. You cursed, glancing back at the smooth wall in front of you. The questions in your head were starting to follow you everywhere - even into work. You couldn’t help but wonder if you should have been working in the state you were in, but who would accept “My best friend and I slept together and then he disappeared” as an even remotely valid excuse?

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just looking for intel,” you muttered into the piece, picking at your nails, and the bits of dirt catching underneath them. The hallway behind you was long, leading to a sealed door. “There’s a door here that’s locked with a biometric scanner. The name matches our guy though.” You continued to study the panel, lightly running your fingers along the seams until - bingo.

With the edge of your knife, you pried against the gap in the panel, until the screen flew off, falling to the floor with a crack. Within a second, the lights had dimmed, a faint echo of an alarm bleating across invisible speakers. You cursed under your breath, taking a moment to analyze the collection of wires and motherboard looking things beneath the panel. 

What the fuck did any of them even mean.

“Fuck it.” You grabbed a handful of wires, and in a final hail mary moment, yanked them all from the panel. The alarm grew to a shriek, though you caught sight of the door shifting, just enough to indicate that the lock had faltered. Honestly, you had no idea how that even worked. 

“What the hell is going on in there?” your earpiece rang again. Your operative sounded less than thrilled.

“Well, let’s just say the security in this place is weird,” you huffed, reaching to pry the door open enough to slide into the office. “I made it into Brown’s office though.”

“Good,” she sighed. “From what I can tell they’ve dispatched a team towards the office. You’ve likely got two minutes before you need to be out of there, so get the notes and go.”

You nodded to the empty room, your brows furrowing as the lights within the office continued to flash. A computer was still on, the login information filled in.

How convenient.

You raced over to the computer, snatching a random flash drive from the desk. Clicking the login button, you watched the foreboding circle on the screen as the information loaded, your heart soaring as the desktop flashed into view. Wasting no time, you hit the files tab, plugging in the USB and copying anything, everything that you saw. You filtered through the email tab, copying the most recent files onto the drive as well. 

And then, a chorus of voices caught your attention. 

As the drive process edged towards completion, you searched through the room again, your attention catching on a door on the opposite wall. Praying that it wasn’t a closet, you ejected the drive, your arms flailing to grab at a pile of file folders, each labelled with three lettered initials. Hopefully they were important; you didn’t have the time to care. 

In a haste, you wrenched the door open, and-

“Fuck me.”

It was a closet.

“Harper,” you hissed into your piece, pushing forward between the hanging jackets and a mop handle. “I’m a little stuck in place right now, and I would really appreciate any backup.”

“Where are you?”

“In a broom closet. In Brown’s office.”

You heard a frustrated curse. A chorus of frantic typing on a keyboard before Harper’s voice was back in your ear.

“Okay, hang tight. Kennedy’s on his way.”

Wait.

“Fucking hell,” you cursed, wondering why the world had decided to curse you further in this clusterfuck of a mission. “How far out?”

“Five minutes. He was already on his way to the building.”

???????

You let out a whispered acknowledgment, falling silent as the first voice burst through the room. And then another, and another, until you were counting five low voices, assigning each other different areas to scout.

There was no way you could hide in here. Your free hand fell to the knife at your waist, shifting to the holstered gun along your thigh, and then back to the knife. It was safer. 

Better for close combat.

As Harper’s voice echoed “three minutes” into your ear, you heard a shuffle of footsteps halt directly in front of you. You held your breath, unsheathing your knife and loosening your knees into a short crouch.

The door flew open, and you lunged.

The first man let out a shout as you barrelled straight through him, sending him stumbling back off his feet. The four others - plus another surprise attendee - all whirled around to face you, their guns drawn. In a second, you ducked to the side, shuffling yourself behind the computer desk. You gave up on the file folders with a curse, throwing them over the desk towards your attackers.

In the distraction, you unholstered your gun, switching your knife to the other hand and crossing them together. Ducking your head over, you took a shot, hearing a pained cry. You shot again, creeping closer to the side of the desk. If you could sneak your way around and out the door, you could-

“He’s there.”

Another round of gunshots, ringing with that familiar weight, cut through the room. It felt quicker than three minutes, and you couldn’t help but peek your head over the desk.

Leon’s expression was stoic, his brows drawn into a line as he let loose another spray of gunfire. Two men fell to the ground, clutching at their legs. You took the opportunity to shoot out from your position, circling around towards the door. You took a few shots of your own, downing another two attackers as Leon’s arm reached out to force you behind him. 

You didn’t waste any time, grabbing his wrist and running from the room.

“Are you okay?” He huffed from beside you, having just barely caught up to your pace. You nodded, not trusting the words in your throat. His hair had gotten longer in the weeks, and there was a new hollowness just below his cheekbones. The sight of him sent a pang of emotion through you, and you chose to ignore it, keeping your expression blank as you raced towards the lab entrance.

Leon called your name as you escaped the building - surprisingly easily as no other security detail came after you. Your back flared, but your feet ignored the will of your mind, turning you to face the agent. With his long hair, wearing that familiar leather jacket and a pair of knitted brows. The sight of him, after those weeks of radio silence, of forcing you to question yourself over, and over again.

You weren’t relieved to see him. There was no spark of joy, no twinge of grief in your heart. You were angry.

“What the fuck do you want, Leon?”

He recoiled at the venom in your voice, his lips tightening further into a frown. You wanted to feel bad, to apologize and reach out for his hand, as you’d done in every argument before. But you couldn’t allow yourself to do that.

Leon cleared his throat.

“You’re bleeding,” was the only thing he said, directing his gaze to your side. You glanced down, taking in the dark, damp spot against the navy fabric of your shirt. The pain in your side didn’t even flare up until you pressed a hand to the wound, a sharp breath hissing between your teeth. Leon stumbled forward a step, his arm stretching out, until you caught his gaze, and he faltered.

It was quiet for a moment, the dull throb in your side beginning to grow in intensity. Leon’s gaze fell to the side, his teeth catching his bottom lip. If you had to hazard a guess, he looked angry, but you couldn’t tell why. 

“Just get me out of here,” you breathed, after another moment of silence between you two.

—

You didn’t let Leon come with you into the infirmary, much to his vocal protest. You received a visit from Ingrid, her expression remaining mostly concerned, though her lips held a tight line, and some prodding got her to admit that the agent had mercilessly been pestering her regarding your wellbeing. 

Why now?

You remained steadfast, refusing to confront him and allow yourself to fall back into whatever spell had prompted this whole disaster in the first place. You wallowed, you caught yourself staring at his contact in your phone. You listened to the low, muffled timbre of his voice outside your room and fought the urge to call him in, face the time, the distance that’d been placed between you two. You forced a wall up, defensive and as strong as you could muster.

You kept that wall up for five days. And then Ingrid decided she’d had enough.

You were leaning against the bed, packing up your few personal items to take home when the door opened, signaling Ingrid’s arrival.

“Hey - do you think we could stop at a drive thru on the way? I swear to god I need an actual meal-”

You shut right up as Leon Kennedy stumbled into your room, looking like a feral cat as he shrugged Ingrid’s hands off his shoulders. Her gaze found yours, unrelenting as she gestured between the two of you.

“Change of plans. Leon’s driving you home. Figure out whatever the fuck is going on between you two or I swear to god I am leaving you to die on your next missions,” she hissed, slamming the door shut without another word.

You all but shriveled into ash, your throat tightening as the man that had plagued your mind for the past two months scowled at the wall. He rolled his shoulders, biting the inside of his cheek as his gaze slowly, sloooooowly found yours.

“What have you been doing here, Leon?” you finally sighed.

“You need to be more careful.”

You huffed. “Noted. As if you have any right to tell me that. I’ll ask again: what are you doing here?” 

“If I hadn't shown up, who knows what could have happened.”

“Leon-”

“You know, you’d most likely be dead!” His voice grew in pitch, his gaze growing harder as he took a step towards you. You took a step back.

“Leon-”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that reckless,” he hissed. 

“Well, what the hell do you think caused that?” you shouted. Leon’s mouth finally snapped shut. His jaw clenched, his gaze falling away from yours.

“You can’t just disappear for six weeks and-” you cut off with a hissed curse, reaching for the sudden flare of pain in your side. Leon’s arm shot out, and against your better judgement, you stepped away from it, holding a hand out to stop him. You watched him wince.

“You can’t just do that to me and pretend everything’s fine, Leon,” you finished. He looked hurt, his hand coming up to cover his face under the facade of brushing a stray hair away from his eyes. And the silence between you grew for a long moment.

“I know,” he finally breathed, his voice clipping at the end of its sentence. When you spared him a glance, you noticed the tightness of his fists, his nails digging hard into his palm as his gaze remained unfocused against the floor. You swallowed against the lump in your throat, forcing the words out from your lips.

“Did I do something wrong?” you asked, and his gaze snapped back to yours in a moment. Before he could get a word out, you were talking again. “Did I take advantage of you? Because I swear, I thought you were fully coherent. Hell, I’ve seen you in a much worse state without any problems, but maybe I read into something and I forced your hand and-”

Leon’s hands found your shoulders, and you physically jerked out of your thoughts. You watched his face twist into something that looked like pain as his hands flew off of you with a muttered apology. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, I swear,” he muttered. “I did everything wrong. I just…”

You waited. And he took a breath.

“Let’s get you home.”

You let his words balance on your tongue, your gaze slipping away from him. Your brain felt like mush, both relieved and disappointed. Overall, entirely unsure of what to think. So, with a silent nod, you let him slip your bag over his shoulder, his hand hovering over your shoulder as he led you out of the infirmary and to his car.

God, you’d missed his car.

The door shut behind you, and you immediately noticed your chapstick, still settled in the second cupholder between the seats. His bags were still strewn across the backseat, along with one of your old hoodies, the only neatly folded item on the seat. Leon flicked on the radio as he drove home, keeping the volume low enough that it almost blended with the noise of the car along the road.

You recognized the song, something you used to sing to your curtains at night. Something about a fancy dress, bought for a single person.

You reached across the dashboard to switch the radio station.

Throughout the drive, you made too much effort to sneak some glances at him. He looked tense, his grip on the wheel almost as tight as his jaw. He had that familiar knot in his brows that told you of the racing thoughts in his own head. And every once in a while, you’d catch him as he snapped his attention back to the road.

By the time you arrived at your home, you’d actually tired yourself out trying to analyze his thoughts. 

Leon parked the car, glancing towards your front door. Though it wasn’t dark, the moment felt familiar. The awkward silence, the silence that thickened the air. So, before it could get too reminiscent, you practically threw yourself out the car door. 

Leon was on his feet as you shut the door, looking over the roof of the car to meet your gaze. He’d already reached to grab your bag, hoisting it over his shoulder.

“Can I help you bring this in?”

You fucking hated this distance between the two of you.

“Do you want to come in?”

Leon barely hesitated - only enough for his shoulders to relax - before he nodded, circling around the car to follow you into your home.

You shut the door, directing Leon to just drop your bag by the pile of stuff in the hall, before you trudged over to the couch, falling into the comfort of the cushions. He sat next to you, much closer than you would have expected. You spent a long moment staring into space, mustering up the words you needed to say before finally letting out a heavy sigh.

“Why did you disappear for two months? And then why did you show up? Why did I have to listen to you outside of my hospital room? Why did you leave in the first place?” 

As you asked them, your questions didn’t seem to stop, and Leon seemed to pick up on the increasing urgency in your voice as he caught your hand, rubbing a circle along your knuckles because he knew it would calm you down. You wanted to pull away from it, to keep that fiery wind in your sails before your resolve completely crumbled. Yet as you started to pull away, his grip tightened on your hand, a sharp breath sounding from his lips. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his own nose scrunching as he thought. “I thought I ruined something, that maybe I took advantage of you and ruined things.”

“So why not just talk about it?” you pressed. “I mean, we’ve seen each other through much worse.”

Leon was quiet. (I’m about to hit you with the cheesiest fucking line known to man)

“I mean, what could be worse than fucking that up and losing you?”

There was a strong wave of pure feeling that crashed through your chest. Something that felt like grief, like adoration. It felt like pain and bliss all tied up together in a bow. It was like you were teetering at the edge of a cliff and something in his words had just anchored at you. But at the same time, it felt like you were watching each other crumble apart next to each other. 

Without any warning, you burst into tears. 

Leon’s breath caught in his throat as you flew into him, wrapping your arms tight around his neck and pulling him as close as possible. He was trembling, his own arms wrapping around your waist, as he buried his nose into your shoulder.

It was rare to see this kind of emotion from him. His voice was trembling, and his grip on your waist was tight enough that you wondered if he was scared to let go. Those walls you’d watched him carefully craft over the years crumbled right in front of you, and your heart couldn’t help but swell at the outpouring of those emotions he’d locked up for so long.

“Can you forgive me for running away?” he asked. Pleaded, really. His eyes grew wider in your silence. A part of you wanted to wash away the past weeks, draw him right back into your arms without another battle. The smaller, more bitter part of you wanted to keep arguing, to show him just how much he’d hurt you. 

But this was Leon. He was your closest friend…. And he was looking at you without any defense in his gaze. He held only sincerity, if not a little bit of fear as he waited. You’d been more honest with him than anyone else, and in a moment you simply knew with utmost confidence he would offer you the same. So you asked.

“What did that night mean to you?” you asked, fighting against the tightness in your chest for volume. As you pulled away to face him head on, his gaze softened. His lips twitching in the first smile you’d seen in months.

“You said you bought that dress for me,” he started, his gaze unwavering. “And I swear I saw heaven. I meant every word I said. And I want you. I want to be with you.”

The words were simple, but they made your heart soar. 

“You’re my person,” you muttered. “Always.”

And Leon let out a huge breath, his eyes falling shut and his shoulders sagging before he surged upwards to kiss you.

When he kissed you, it felt like he craved you, like he couldn’t live without the feeling of your lips against his. He held you tight, his fingers digging softly into your back. You let your own hands curl into his shirt, your lips parting just enough for his tongue to prod against the seam.

Leon broke away from you for barely a second before he kissed you again, soft and so tender that you felt like glass about to shatter. Your thumb brushed against his cheekbone, feeling the warmth of his skin, the tickle of his hair, simply reassuring yourself that he was actually there in front of you.

He pulled you close, closer than you could even have thought possible, his hands curling into your shirt. When he finally pulled away from you, his forehead resting against your collarbone, his breath shook. Your shirt grew damp, and your arms tightened around him.

“Y’know how much I missed you, you fucking dumbass?” you sighed, and Leon let out a weak chuckle. He lifted his head slowly, his nose barely brushing against your jaw as you found those ever familiar baby blues of his.

“I think I have some idea,” he whispered with a short grin.

And you kissed him again.

TAGGING:

@chaosandbubbles @obsessedwithtoomanythings @navstuffs

[noirvette]

WE NEVER EXISTED

[band smau]

[FIFTEEN]

masterlist.

prev. | next.

Note: haha... it's a long one guys..

The concert had ended and you couldn't help but think it was the most fun night of your life. South Park certainly knew how to draw in a crowd and give a band their best experience ever. Endorphins running through your body at an all time high, you felt happy, light, floaty in a way. Like nothing could ever tear you down.

"What a night!" Clyde exclaimed, tossing his drumsticks in the air, doing some random juggling routine with them.

Nichole hummed a noise of agreement, "Right! I don't think I've seen so many people of South Park in one place before."

Everyone nodded at Nichole's statement.

"Well, I for one am beat," Stan sighed out, before taking a sip of his water, "I don't think I've sang that many high notes in my life before in one concert."

"You did a good job bro," Kyle slapped his hand on Stan's back, rubbing his shoulder a bit, "You all did."

Clyde stared at the scene in front of him before turning to you mouth open wide in shock before looking back at Stan and Kyle, "Oh my god they're making out in front of us guys!"

You stifled your laugh as Stan turns to Kyle make obnoxious kissing noises towards him, "Style will be real in 10 seconds."

Kyle scoffed and turned to find a place to sit down and Stan threw his arms around Kyle's waist, "NOOOO babe don't leave meeeeee."

"Oh my god you weirdo," Kyle rolled his eyes in mock annoyance, "Fine, fine I'll sit with you, scooch over."

Stan does so and Kyle sits besides him, "Well we've got some downtime before the truck guys come to grab our equipment, what do you guys wanna do?"

"FOOD. OH FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING PRECIOUS TO ME, CAN WE PLEASEEEE ORDER SOME FOOD!!" Clyde falls to his knees, begging.

Kyle took his phone out opening DoorDash, "Yeah I'm feelin hungry myself, what you guys want? I'll start a group order but you all owe me back."

You patted your pocket, "Oh wait where's my phone?"

Kyle's face briefly shows one of panic, "I uh, put it on the charger you left it and I found it dead.. so I plugged it in for you."

"Oh! Thanks Kyle."

"No problem, I'll just pay for you for tonight."

Clyde scoffs, "What is THIS Kyle Broflovski? You pay for our dear bassist but not for your lovely Clyde THE Donovan?"

"Clyde."

"This is like........instrumentalism..Do you just like bassists? Do you hate drummers?"

Nichole looks up in confusion, giving Clyde a side eye, "That.. is definitely NOT a word meant for that use smart ass."

"Uh huh, it sure is, don't change the topic though Nicky.. the important thing here is that no one is paying.. for ME!"

Kyle sighs, "Clyde."

"Uh.. I'm not finished yet," Clyde holds a finger up, "As I was saying, why don't you pay for me too! Do you just hate me, Kyle? I thought we were besties..."

If emoticons could be used as tones... you swear Clyde would sound like exactly like the sad emotion right now.

"Clyde." Kyle tries again.

"Oh my god can you let me do what I need to do?" Clyde frowns in fake irritation.

"Did..are you quoting Tyler the Creator right now? Seriously?" Stan asks.

"Yeah."

You snort at Clyde's antics and Kyle rubs his eyes, "Dude.. You can pay for yourself.. your phone is right there.. and CHARGED. You literally just got an angry birds notification."

Clyde turns around and sure enough his phone sat lit up with an angry birds notification sitting on his home screen, "Oh well this is awkward.. but still! It's the principle of things.."

Before Kyle could utter another word, Clyde continues, "BUT! I'll let you off the hook.. I'll pay for myself; you win this time.. Kyle Matthew Broflovski.."

"NOT THE FULL NAME." Stan bursts out laughing hard and Kyle sits there with his head in his hands, face covered in a slight blush from embarrassment.

Nichole, having tuned the conversation out and scrolling on DoorDash herself, pipes up with, "Does Burger King sound alright? It's either that or McDonalds and I'd rather not have them again tonight."

"Sounds good with me!" You chirp and the other three give their own mentions of agreement.

Kyle sends the link out and then gets up to sit beside you, "What would you like?"

"Hmm.." You lean in to get a better look at his phone and Kyle stiffens a bit before handing his phone to you.

"Thanks," You add your order in and hand the phone back to him, "Hey Kyle do you think my phone's charged by now?"

Kyle hums briefly and without thinking says, "Yeah should be."

"Oh great, where is it?"

He pauses briefly, having realized what he said, "Uhhh... You know.. I'm not sure where I plugged it in, give me a second to place the order if everyone would FINISH," He gives Stan a harsh side eye who just shrugs in return, "And I'll help you look."

Nichole frowns and gives you a glance and you catch it and just shrug, "Alright works with me, just as long as my phone is still here and someone didn't take it.. because you'd be owing me a new phone mister."

Kyle places the order and stands up, "Yup, I know.. That's why I'm hoping it's still here myself. Alright well lets go find it."

Kyle starts walking off towards the trailers and you follow, the other three look at each other and immediately start gossiping once you two are out of ear shot.

"Alright, what the hell is going on between those two?" Nichole asks.

Stan shrugs, "Hell if I know, suddenly they just became like that!" Stan snaps his fingers.

"Okayy.. well they've always been relatively close, I mean not as close as recently but, they've always had an easier connection." Clyde points out.

"Right and this is Y/n we're talking about.. she wouldn't be stupid enough to cheat on Kenny right?" Stan questions and Nichole shakes her head.

"No, that girl is dedicated to him, she wouldn't dream of doing that to Kenny."

Clyde sits for a minute, thinking, "Well what if Kyle's manipulating her? To like fall in love with him? I mean he's liked her since.. how long now?"

Stan looks over at Clyde incredulously, "Dude! That's my best friend you're dissing right now and absolutely not, Kyle isn't that kind of guy."

Clyde shrugs, "Hey bro I was just throwin ideas out there."

"Yeah, shitty ones."

Nichole chimes in, trying to break the random argument that's about to start, "Uh guys."

"I don't hear any genius ideas coming from YOU, Stanley Randall William Marsh."

"WHY ARE YOU SAYING OUR FULL NAMES LIKE THIS." Stan raises his voice in exasperation.

"Cuz it's funny." Clyde simply states.

"Uhhh... Guys?" Nichole says with more urgency.

"Yes Nichole?" Clyde turns to look at her, batting his eyelashes.

"Have.. you two seen twitter?"

You turn to ask Kyle, "You sure you left it in here?"

Kyle scratches his neck and looks around the trailer room, "Yeah, it should be here."

"No it's not." You sigh.

"What?"

"You have a thing, you scratch your neck and refuse to make eye contact when you're hiding the truth."

"A...thing?" Kyle asks confused.

"Yeah like a tell, people have these quirks about them that they do.. when they're lying or if they're happy or you know something like that."

Kyle still stares at you with slight confusion, "And... mine is scratching my neck and refusing to make eye contact?"

You nod, "Yeah.. pretty much."

"So you're calling me a liar?"

"I'm not calling you a truther."

"Don't," Kyle holds a hand up, "Quote Drake and Josh when you're accusing me of lying."

You cross your arms annoyed, "I'm not accusing you of lying I'm stating you're not telling me the truth right now... about MY phone no less."

Kyle sighs in defeat, "Okay.. You got me, but Y/n, sit down."

"Wha?" You start.

"Please."

"Wow, okay.." You slowly start to sit down and Kyle sits down at the couch across from you, "What is this about.?"

Kyle bites his lip and refuses to meet your gaze, "Y/n.. I.."

"Oh my god," You nervously chuckle, "You're scaring me, Kyle."

Kyle runs a hand through his hair and stares at the ground, you can see his jaw is clenched.

He looks back up at you and wordlessly fishes your phone out of his back pocket and slides it over to you.

"You had it? Kyle what the he.." You trail off, meeting his gaze. His eyes tell you that he's nervous.. that he's serious.. and that he's sad.

You swallow nervous again.. you can feel the mood change in the room, really you think it changed a while ago but your nonchalance about the reality of whatever is happening prevented you from fully noticing it.

You're not sure what to be thinking, thoughts run through your mind at the speed of 120 miles per hour. Complete worry stains your body and covers you in a blanket of fear.

"Y/n." Kyle starts, in a full serious tone.

"...Yeah?" You answer apprehensively.

"Kenny's cheating on you. I found out during the set."

White noise. White noise filled your ears, the room was so silent that you could literally hear the noise of dust settling around you.. at least you thought you could. What you could be hearing is the blood draining from your head or is it the blood rushing to your head?

Your heart beats faster and you're pretty sure to Kyle you look as if you just had a heart attack. Frozen in shock... frozen in.. dread? You're not sure what to feel.

Your throat is dry, your mouth is dry, "How..? Who..?" You croak out.

"The podcast earlier released it, it uh, was Red.. They've been together since right after we left for our tours."

"Oh- Oh my god I'm going to be sick." You gasp out.

Kyle instinctively wraps his arms around your body, holding you tight. You know that if you were standing, you'd have collapsed onto the ground. He rubs circles into your back and rubs his hands along your sides to comfort you.

You can also feel Kyle whisper in your ear comforting phrases, at least you'd assume it's comfort. You can't hear anything, the shock of the situation hitting you even harder now you know everything.. or at least everything you need to know.. everything you want to know.

You can't feel tears.. you're not sure why, maybe a part of you expected this... no, no how could you ever expect something like this? Your body is in a catatonic state. You feel sick yet you feel fine. Almost as if your body is fighting itself in a way that you don't know how to deal with.

You feel hollow.. empty.. like someone just ripped a half of you away with no explanation as to why. Except you HAD an explanation.. a horrible, awful, shitty, excruciatingly painful explanation.

You hear the trailer door open and a few gasps, before feeling three pairs of arms circle your body. You felt cold, you felt numb, you felt broken. But above all?

You felt alone.

TAGLIST: @captivq @kimiesstuff @bwljules @the-cooler-kira @1one1person1 @kenny-the-ken @neenieweenie @n0tangeliccc @frogindisguise @revzxn @ryenwritess @mirophobic @gonefiishiing @musiclovebot @bootsieboo @bonez4brainz @s0l4riss @1996kj @sweetadonisbutbetter @scinclaitnoir @okarigold

[nagisadelune]

Headcanon: Artem Falling in Love With You (Part 1)

(Definitely not edited)

I'M BACK TEARS OF THEMIS FANS! I know that I've been gone for months, but being busy is a clear characteristic of going through depression getting through life. Either way, I'm back to writing for at least a bit.

Okay, I originally had something written for this part before until I found this post which literally has a discussion in the comments about the stuff that was going through my head when I originally thought about this. If you don't want to read the discussion, allow me to sum it up to you: Artem only briefly mentions how he first falls in love with you when you're performing a drama in university, but it seems out of character.

Because of this discussion, I thought that maybe I should write something about how Artem falls in love with you. Because of the amount of time I'm planning to pass with this story, there will be a lot of skipping, so please bear with me. Let's get started!

For the context of the story, we are (obviously) going to be in a time frame before the game even starts, so let's assume that we start around 2026 and move towards 2030.

⭐⭐⭐

"Bro, hurry up! We're going to be late if we don't go now!" a man yells into the apartment building. Artem can only sigh as he adjusts the sneakers on his feet, waiting for the last housemate to leave the house. He can't understand why and how he got dragged into this, but he is now waiting to go to the school drama production in the theater with the rest of the house.

"I get it, I get it!" the last roommate answers annoyed, seemingly out of breath from rushing to get outside. "I know you're going to support your girlfriend, but why are you dragging us into this? Especially our study bug Artem?" Artem looks over at the roommate slightly annoyed, considering that he was interrupted in the middle of a lecture video.

"She asked me to take you guys with me because you deserve a break after working so hard for our masters," he answers annoyed, his eyes glued to his phone and his fingers typing away at the screen. The group locks the door before walking onto campus in the cool night.

After picking up a bouquet from a nearby florist, the group hurries over to the theater, getting ready to sit through a couple hours of performance. They settle into their seats, and the lights dim soon after. A huffy Artem looks towards the stage, deciding to give the performance half of his attention considering the situation. The velvet curtain raises, and for a second, the hard-working student's eyes are glued to the stage, specifically one girl.

Throughout the production, the other two boys take glances at Artem, entertained by the fact that the usually aloof man has eyes on someone rather than his study materials. While the two snicker off to the side, Artem's eyes watches the girl on the stage, noticing the little details about her. The soft cast of the light on her eyes and hair makes everything about her sparkle, and her facial features remind him of an angel.

After a nudge, one of them whispers into his ear, "Which one do you have your eye on?" In an instant, Artem turns towards the pair annoyed before lightly smacking them with the physical program in his hands. With his eyes finally breaking away from the stage, he decides to look through the cast to figure out who has captured his attention so easily. In an instant, he recognizes the face in the program and stares at it, seemingly engraving her face into his mind.

The lights come on with the end of the production, and the three men stand up from their seats to walk out of the theater. The conversations about what they just watched start, discussing everything from the plot to the costume design choices. Artem, whose mind still lingers on the girl on stage, falls behind the pair, making the two turn confused towards him. They both approach him, but he doesn't give them any attention.

"Yo, Artem. What's going on?" his single roommate asks him, throwing his arm around his shoulders. This snaps Artem out of his thoughts for a second, making his cheeks somewhat red from the content of his thoughts.

"I just thought that one of the actresses in the play was pretty," Artem's helpless voice answers in a mutter. The two boys stare at him for a moment before turning towards each other in amazement; their usually stoic roommate has his eyes on a girl instead of his studies. As they walk towards the backrooms of the theater, the two tease him on his feelings, but Artem pushes them down; there's no way that he just fell in love with her like that.

~~~

His slender fingers leafs through the stack of resumes in his hands with a sigh, briefly noting the various candidates for the open positions at the company. Despite just being a mere employee, Celestine is already handing him a large amount of work, but he knows that he is actually greatly helping her. When he gets to a certain resume, the world seems to stop, his eyes landing on the picture.

"No way," Artem mutters under his breath in disbelief. He separates the resume from the stack and tries to process what he is currently seeing: the pretty girl smiling in the picture seems familiar, but he can't exactly remember from where. His mind tries to think of where the face might be familiar: possibly seeing her when she was turning in her resume or maybe spotting her in the restaurant nearby. There's no way though; all the people from his years in school have mostly moved away or pursued a different career path than him. His thoughts start to wander, focusing on the way her hair curls over her shoulder and how striking her green eyes are.

"Artem, is everything okay? I want to discuss something with you," a familiar voice requests from behind the door following a knock. "Are you free?" Artem's head whips up from the picture on the resume, realizing that he must have stared for too long at the photo to hear her knocks.

"I'm okay, Celestine. I'm free too," Artem answers, slightly flustered by the situation. He quickly pulls the resume on his desk back into the stack next to him as the door creaks open, revealing Celestine.

"Why are you so red?" Celestine suddenly asks, stopping in her tracks when she notices the flush on his cheeks. The aloof and somewhat calm Artem now appears somewhat confused, a stark difference from what Celestine is used to.

"I-It's nothing," Artem answers, slightly stumbling on his words. Celestine continues to stare at him in amazement as the Artem sitting at his desk is definitely flustered by something. Despite her interest, she decides to push it to the side, focusing on what she originally wanted to talk about.

Celestine takes a seat in front of him before she asks her shocking question, "Which one caught your eye?" Artem stares at her, trying to piece together how she figured it out. "You don't think I couldn't hear the paper moving?" He can only put his head down in disappointment with himself, forgetting such a small mistake. Because of this, he can only pull the resume out from the top of the pile and hand it to Celestine. While his head hangs in shame, Celestine stares at her picture before handing it back to him.

"Are you interested because she attended your alma mater?" Celestine questions, probing the situation. His new expressions sparks interest, and she stares at him, ready for his response.

"Y-Yeah, you could say that," Artem stutters out, avoiding eye contact with her. This response causes the eyebrows on Celestine's face to raise, suspicions about the situation coming to the surface of her thoughts. "Anyways," Artem starts after clearing his throat, "what was it you wanted to talk about with me?" With a sigh, Celestine can't help but give in to the sudden change in topics despite her interest. However, the situation never leaves her mind.

~~~

"She's so much prettier up close."

Artem watches the girl walk into the office, greeting everyone as it's her first day. His eyes train on her figure as she shakes hands with each person in the office. After seeing her from so far away years ago, he finally gets to see her up close for the first time; she still looks the same from back then, her hair only slightly longer than before. Her eyes seem to shine more brightly than before, her sweet smile growing to her eyes.

In the midst of this, Artem doesn't process that she is about to introduce herself to him, but he finally snaps back to reality when he sees her in front of him. In his mind, time almost stops as she introduces herself and holds her hand out for a handshake. Artem gently grabs her hand and shakes it, giving her a warm smile.

"Welcome to Themis. I'm Artem Wing," he greets, a warm smile on his face. She watches her smiley face turn to shock, seemingly processing something as she shakes her hand.

"Did you happen to study at Stellis University under Professor Hume?" she asks, her mind putting pieces of information together. Artem's mind seems to draw blank as he tries to figure out the situation. How would she know who he is even though they have never officially met?

"Y-yes, I am," he stutters, still overcoming the shock of the situation.

"I never thought I would ever meet you. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Wing," she greets him kindly as they shake hands. She awkwardly clears her throat before repeating her statement, "I-It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wing."

Artem finally returns to his normal self and responds back, "Again, welcome to Themis Law Firm." Although this is the first time Artem ever met her, the warmth of her hand lingers on his, the skin slightly tingly from the contact.

As the group finally breaks apart to get back to work, Artem quickly returns to his office before settling in his chair and taking a breather. He never expected to encounter her at his work nor for her to recognize him. While he begins to calm down, he sees all of his coworkers help her settle in and interacting with her. For a moment, his eyes linger on her before he turns back to his work, and his mind wanders to how life has been for her. He finally turns away from her and sighs.

For now, this is enough.

⭐⭐⭐

Dang, I realize writing this and watching some of other card stories that Artem is such a simp, but we love it. We love a man that can actually express his feelings.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading it. I feel like I want to write more about what happens up until the point of the game, so I will see you in the next one! See you guys soon!

[miscreantroses]

Let the tears fall (Law x Reader)

You were at your fucking limit. Law knew you were level headed but he didn't expected you to finally break down after keeping it to yourself.

That was it, you had the final straw. You decided to be in the hospital for a bit since your illness had finally succumb you. Law knew about the illness that you had but you just told him that you had it under control. But he was worried because everyday had been too much for you to handle and your only way to let him know was just to flash your usual smile and be on your way.

He knew you were breaking apart. He wanted that you were the one admitted that you were breaking but he knew that you prided yourself that you had it under control.

Until you just got discharged out of the hospital. HR just did dirty on you, you got terminated in the messiest way possible. It was just a two day notice and this was not in the top of your priorities.

"Y/N, you've been staring at your phone for an hour." Law was settling down your stuff after being discharged. He helped you through the whole ordeal while you were in treatment.

You kept silent and just tried to process everything. A two day notice, not a word from your team lead let alone from your department head. By two days, you just lost your job. "Huh" you muttered and just stared at Law.

And from that look alone, he knew something was up that was beyond your control. Let alone, how you'll process that information.

"I..." You stared back at your phone screen and looked back at him. "I don't know what to do. I'm scared." You handed your phone to Law and let him read through the contents of the email.

He placed down your phone and stared back at you. You were finally spiraling, a thing he was too familiar with. You usually hide it so well with a mask but this time, masking is not a good route for you. You were just tired.

"Hey... It's not the end for you." He muttered as he places his arms on your shoulders. "You've been in that shit hole of a company for too long. It's literally draining the life out of you."

You kept silent and his words became white noise. Thoughts started to flood, this feels like another fever dream you just had a year ago. You tried to breathe but it doesn't work until you felt a single tear drop fell on your cheek.

"Yeah... I think I have." You muttered. Finally let the tears falls. "I'm tired, Law. I'm scared."

"I know." He held you close. "But this time, I'm not going to let you go through this alone. Let the tears fall my love. It'll be fine."

"Can we do something stupid to clear off my mind?" You looked up at him and he smiled and ruffled your hair. Though you just lost a good amount of hair, he still likes to play with it. "Karaoke? Maybe go to the arcade? Maybe a tad childish."

"Anything you'd like." He smiled. "Come on."

A/N: Ah. That was something. Hahahah

[tvrningout-a]

"Just relax," the words feel ironic coming from him, always on edge. But when he's around Chiyo, it's easy for him to relax just being in her presence (or just being Physically close to her in any way). Now it was his turn to help her. Timmy's fingers graze against the other's scalp, letting his nails gently scrape away any anxiety or pain she feels, "Just keep your eyes closed, I'm here, not going anywhere," Timmy's motions continue while something random plays on the tv in the background. He can't hear what it is though, all he's focusing on in the steadying of Chiyo's breathing, "Let me know when you want me to stop."

UNPROMPTED | @ninjassin's timmy helps chiyo!

if someone were to ask which parent chiyo takes after more, the obvious answer would be her mother -- from her eye shape to the way she sometimes snorts in the middle of her laughter, she resembles her mother. when it comes to personality, though, she takes after her father most of the time ( the care she takes to notice what others overlook, how easily she offers a hand and accepts it may not be reciprocated ).

to her great misfortune, chiyo also inherited his migraines. and god, do they suck.

today she was supposed to go out with timmy, go eat something yummy, but the mere thought of food makes her stomach churn right now. or maybe her stomach was already churning? she can't say for sure when her head feels like it might split open, when thinking ( you know, the thing she does too much best ) hurts.

" i can't go today, " she tells timmy, no doubt sounding every bit as miserable as she feels. she would've just texted him, but staring at the bright screen of her phone doesn't do her head any favors. " i'm really sorry. "

chiyo expects that to be the end of it and to handle her migraine just as she has before: shutting herself in the comforting darkness of her room, pressing a heat pack against her temple, and taking nice, long nap. it works... some of the time. it'll be fine, she's sure, because it always is eventually.

but timmy shows up at her door, and she's close to tears when sees him ( whether from relief or guilt or the pounding in her head, she can't be sure ). " you didn't need to come, " she says, voice a lil watery as she lets him in anyway. her words are waved away. it isn't a big deal when she seems to be in such a rough spot.

he doesn't realize it, but that sort of talk stokes a warmth deep in her chest, sets her at ease.

what can he do to help? her chocolate-colored gaze falls to the floor. she hates to ask, but---

" can you massage my scalp? "

which is how chiyo finds herself curled up on the couch and her head in timmy's lap. she's stiff at first, uncomfortable not only because of her head, but because she isn't used to this -- being taken care of ( how long has she done it all on her own, made do to avoid burdening others?). timmy must notice because he tells her to relax ( a little rich coming from him ), gently scratching at her scalp and reassuring her he's staying put.

chiyo really could cry, she thinks, but she doesn't. it'd make her migraine worse, and she'd rather not show her ugly crying face to timmy when already he's doing her such a big favor. he could be relaxing, doing school work, literally anything else, yet he's here ( he's choosing her, and she feels more sensitive to that knowledge than she should ).

slowly she melts into his touch, humming her response and trying to concentrate on the gentle pressure of his fingers rather than the pulsating pain in her temple. it isn't easy, but eventually the pain lessens, feels a little more bearable, and sleep beckons chiyo to sweet, sweet oblivion. softly she sighs, peaks open an eye, and turns to look up at timmy before grabbing one of his hands and pressing a kiss to his palm. she doesn't let go of it, either, intertwining their fingers instead as her eyes slide closed again.

" thank you. " man, she's sleepy. " so much, really... "

[writingjourney]

ziplocked love pt. 3 | dew x fem!reader

summary: you visit dew on tour and finally get to do all the things you've been so desperately missing.

content: ~8.5k words (I'm sorry, it developed a life of its own), this is a mix of light-hearted/silly and some slightly more emotional conversations, lots of smut and fluff (18+ only) (some praise, slight blood kink, rough sex, biting, p in v, dew being more subby at some point), banter, mentions of reader dealing with some anxiety, Aether being a cutie yet again

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Read on Ao3

⸻

On top of the world, or in the depths of despair.

Goethe was right – there is but a gossamer thread between the greatest happiness and the greatest pain for the one who loves.

Today you’re not shifting between extremes, but you’re both at the same time. The worst and best mood fighting for dominance. The worst because you missed the ritual you were supposed to attend because your flight got delayed. The best because in a few minutes you get to see Dew. The worst because you’re worried about how your visit will go. The best because no matter how it goes, you get to see Dew.

The venue is a labyrinth but unlike Theseus you’re not looking for the minotaur who would probably be easy to spot but your long lost boyfriend… who is most likely hidden in some sort of dressing room. Ten minutes ago you got dropped off by your taxi, someone let you in backstage after seeing your visitor’s pass, took your luggage to take it to the busses, and then just left, too busy with packing up.

And so now you’re not only late, but stranded.

You’re pretty sure you’ve passed those bathroom signs before. Twice. Just like in the abbey when you first got there, your sense of orientation is not adapting fast enough to the new, confusing surroundings. You follow a random green arrow to a white-walled hallway you’re pretty certain you haven’t seen so far, even though they all look the same. After a few steps, you vaguely make out muffled voices…

The first one you spot is Aether.

He’s already changed, carrying a small bag and eating a banana, still in human glamour. When he sees you, he drops the bag and swallows the rest of the fruit in one go, practically sprinting into you. It’s not a real bodycheck but the impact makes you stumble nonetheless. And yet Aether’s arms grip you so impossibly tight that you don’t need to worry about falling. He lifts you up and spins you around, so many times you feel dizzy when he sets you back down.

“Ew, you still smell like that little gremlin,” he mumbles into your hair, squeezing you once more. “Disgusting.”

You think it’s mean he can still smell him on you when you’ve lost his scent for over a week now. Nevertheless it makes you chuckle. “I missed you, too, Aether.”

“Hey, I did really miss you,” he says. “But I know someone who missed you so bad he was staring at his phone all day, screen time up by two-hundred percent at least. Someone who got so grumpy when we teased him about you that he almost bit Swiss’s head off and I mean that in a literal sense. He fucking hissed at him, we had to tie him up.”

You laugh, you can’t help it. It’s then that you hear a door open, rapid footsteps that you’d recognise anywhere. Aether steps aside just in time before Dew slams into you. He practically jumps on you, making you both stumble backwards. In the narrow hallway he manages to steady you against a wall, catching the impact with his side. Both arms tightly slung around his shoulders, you take in his scent, the feeling of his slender body wrapped around yours.

“I heard you and I felt you…” He lets out a growl. “Fuck, I can’t believe you’re here. Oh, fuck fuck fuck.”

You whimper, tears already pricking your eyes. He feels so good, so warm even in his human glamour. His hair tickles your nose and that feeling alone is enough to fully make you cry.

This is where you’re supposed to be.

For the first time in over a month you feel like you’re finally home.

You sob against him and he squeezes you even tighter, one hand wandering into your hair while the other one presses against the small of your back.

“Fuck, baby, don’t cry please.” When he breaks away to look at your face you can see that his eyes are glassy as well. Then he smiles brightly. “Hey, look, it’s my pretty girl.”

You let out a sound somewhere between a sob and a chuckle. Dew cradles your face, wiping the tears away. Then he rests his forehead against yours.

“I missed you so much,” you blubber out.

“I missed you too,” he says. “But damn you smell like Aether. I can’t believe he beat me to it.”

You smile. “Funny, he said the same thing about you.”

“Did he?”

“Mhm, said I still smell like you.”

“She did, it was awful,” Aether says somewhere behind you. “By the way that was very cute to watch. I sent the video to the group chat.”

Dew ignores him, buries his face in your neck and takes a long, drawn-out sniff, nose tickling your sensitive skin until you have to giggle. “Hmmm yea a little, but you smell even more like yourself which is far better. And I’m sure I’m getting Aether off of you in no time.”

“How’re you gonna do that?”

He leans in. “Oh, I have some ideas.”

“Ehhhh, get a room, please,” Aether interrupts. “Since you want privacy so much these days I won’t ask if I can join.”

Dew flips him off but pulls you into his dressing room anyway, practically slamming the door shut. You have no time to look around. He immediately pushes you up against the wall, kissing you so hard you think he’s trying to swallow you. His mouth is insistent, his tongue only waiting for your first moan so it can taste you almost violently. Your lips are going to be bruised later, but you don’t care, you try your best to kiss him back just as hard.

He breaks away only when you’re both short of suffocating, your chest burning from lack of oxygen. Dew swallows all of it, like a blaze eating itself through all the fuel it can find.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he says between deep breaths. “Oh fuck.”

Your reply is a meek whimper. It’s like your brain has lost any control over your body.

“I want you so much I’m losing my mind.” He groans and you see his glamour slip as he loses control. “I can’t hold it in. I’m going mad.”

You pull him closer, driven by the same desperation. “Kiss me again. Don’t fucking stop.”

He wastes not a second before devouring you again, pinning you to the wall with the little weight he has but with surprising strength nonetheless. You burn up from his sudden heat spreading out to you and it feels like you’re burning with him. His knee is pushing between your legs and you settle onto it, relishing in the friction it provides.

Dew pulls your hips towards his, your back arching into him until there is not a millimetre of space left between you. With his tongue in your mouth, his thigh digging into your core and his heat basically boiling you alive you start to feel faint.

It’s too much all at once, so much pleasure and desire but so much worry and pent up anxiety, and you feel tears in your eyes again, a sniffle leaving you after a barely concealed attempt not to cry. You turn your face away to gasp for air, effectively causing him to stop dead in his tracks.

“Fuck, baby, did I hurt you?”

You snivel. “No, no.”

He sets you down, one hand carefully cradling your cheek to turn your face back to him. “More good tears?”

Nodding, you press yourself to his chest for a hug. “Sorry.”

His arms are ready for you, holding you, one hand stroking your hair in soothing circles. And maybe the break is necessary to help your lungs recover, to ease the anxiety. Dew is still hot but he’s cooling down with every second, making it easier to breathe.

“You know you can tell me,” he finally says. “We’ve been here before, on the phone, and I didn’t like it.”

“It’s just… I missed you so much,” you admit. “I’m so relieved.”

He smiles. “Me too, baby. I missed you so fucking much.”

You can’t help the Really? that spills out.

Dew immediately frowns. “What? Do you doubt that?”

Staring at his chest to avoid his gaze you shrug. “No… but I feel so pathetic because you did so much better than me. I’m such a mess without you.”

He lets you go, frowning, tilting your chin up. “You think I didn’t miss you?”

“No, I know you did, just…” You shrug, averting your gaze again to play with his shirt instead. “I mean I know you missed my body a whole lot and I know you missed the rest of me, but… I wouldn’t expect you to struggle as much. Maybe I am fragile after all.”

Dew looks offended. “Babe, no, that’s not true. I know I can come off… like… like touching you is all I think about. Aether made me do this stupid quiz and said my love language is physical touch. So it’s just how I best know to express my love for you, okay?”

You stare at him, the unexpected admission circling in your mind. “O-okay.”

“Of course I missed all of you.” He shakes his head, pulling you close again. “Silly little minx.”

You bury into him, trying to get as close as you can. He’s so incredibly warm, so comforting, his frame perfect for your shape. You fit right in, like you never left.

“Let’s go, huh? Cuddle on the bus until we’re alone?” he eventually asks. “I’ll even let you be the little spoon.”

“Can’t let you go,” you mumble against his neck. “‘m sorry. I feel really clingy right now.”

“That’s fine, I love it when you are.” He pulls you even tighter. “For all I care you don’t have to let go of me for the next five days. Or… forever, really.”

You smile against his neck. “But you’ll be on stage Sunday.”

“I’ll just carry you around like a baby monkey all day,” he says. “You’ll have to live with watching me pee though.”

“’s fine, I can ho…”

“No, you won’t hold it,” he interrupts.

“Boring.”

“Who’s boring? Dew?” Swiss’s head is peeking into the room. When he sees you’re decent, he comes inside. “I thought I’d find you fucking on the floor or something.”

“What, like we’re some kind of animals?” Dew asks in mock offence.

“Uhm, do I have to remind you of that time whe–“

“No!” you interrupt. “No, you were right to be cautious, Swiss.”

“Oh, I wasn’t trying to be cautious, I was going to ask to join in.”

“In your dreams,” Dew says, clinging to you even tighter.

Swiss scoffs. “I know you’re a selfish ass now but I thought it was worth a try. Anyway, actually I’m here to tell you we’re heading off. Better get ready or we’re leaving you behind.”

“You wouldn’t leave my girlfriend,” Dew says confidently.

“No, I’m talking specifically about you. I can take care of her, I’m sure Aether would help me.”

“Mind your fucking business, Swiss, or I swear to Satan–“

You shut him up by pulling him closer, hand pressed to his chest. “We’re ready to go, Swiss, thanks.”

Swiss gives you a saccharine smile and when he notices Dew’s narrowed eyes he blows him a kiss, then ducks out of the room just in time to avoid his wrath in the form of a flying guitar pick.

“Don’t be so mean to him.” You press a kiss to his cheek, nuzzling his skin.

“He’s the most dangerous of them all,” Dew just says. “Sexy bastard.”

“You don’t think I’d do anything with him without your consent?”

“No, no, I don’t.” He runs a hand over his face. “Sorry, I’m worked up. Fuck. This is so intense.”

You feel bad for ruining your passionate moment and leaving him all high and dry. In truth you couldn’t have fucked in here anyway, at least not if you wanted more than a stupid quickie for your reunion.

Dew sees it in your expression. “Don’t you dare apologise.”

You keep your mouth shut and he scowls in warning, so you swallow the words on your tongue. His arms wrap around you for one more hug, nose nuzzling your neck, and you can feel he’s still not fully recovered.

“I’ll make it up to you,” you whisper. “Promise.”

“You have nothing to make up for, silly,” he says, kissing your nose. “Come on, gotta pack the rest of my things and then we’ve got all night.”

You help him gather his belongings, motivated by that promise, and five minutes later he grabs your hand and pulls you towards the bus. Everyone else is already waiting inside, so upon entering you’re pulled into a plethora of hugs, so so many wet kisses pressed to your face.

“So good to see you,” Cirrus says, hugging you closest of them all.

The ghoulettes adopted you very early on in the relationship with Dew, just like Aether who immediately pulls you to his side, not planning to let go of you anytime soon with his heavy arm draped around your shoulders.

“So, how’s everything at home?” he asks.

“Oh, it’s–“

“Come on, you can pester my girlfriend tomorrow, gimme some time with her,” Dew complains, big pouty scowl on his face and arms crossed in front of him.

“She’s our girlfriend, too!” Aether complains.

“Absolutely,” Cirrus agrees. “We haven’t seen her in over a month either! Stop being obsessed.”

You grin, all the love making you dizzy.

“Ah, i miei figli, we are all happy that she is here, but he is right,” Papa says. “Give them some time, eh?”

You break free from Aether’s strong grasp, following Dew to the back of the bus where the bunk beds are. He throws his mask somewhere, then pulls you into his booth and closes the curtain. Before you even manage to get comfortable in the tiny space, you’re wrapped up tightly in his arms.

“You’re mine,” he mumbles. “Mine, mine, mine.”

You smile against his neck. “I am.”

His knee pushes between your legs and you wrap one of them around him, getting impossibly close. You missed being cuddled up to your own personal furnace, his comfortable warmth immediately easing your anxiety from earlier. When you slide one of your hands under his shirt, feeling his hot skin on your fingertips, you let out a content sigh. Meanwhile Dew starts stroking your back, breathing a similar sigh into your hair.

“I love you so much,” he says. “You have no fucking idea.”

“I love you, too.”

He hums but the sound turns into a low purr, pressing gentle kisses to your temple, your forehead, your cheeks. Before long he’s kissing your mouth and then the kisses stop being gentle altogether. He’s half on top of you, his mouth pushing yours open, sharp teeth nibbling at whatever he can reach – your tongue, your bottom lip, your jaw. When he bites your lip once more, harder this time, you taste blood. You moan into his mouth, moan again when he involuntarily bucks his hips, his hard cock pressing against your centre.

“I want you so much,” he says, breaking away to bury his face in your neck instead. “Fuck, it’s torture. I’m so turned on right now, I feel like I’m on fire.”

You can’t help but giggle. “I know. You’re practically cooking me right now.”

He kisses your neck, lips lingering just below your ear. “And how’s that feel?”

It’s hard to ignore the tingles, the throbbing between your legs. “It’s toasty. I think I’ll be medium rare in a second.”

His teeth dig into your skin then, barely avoiding to break it. “You know that’s how I like my flesh.”

“Thought you always went raw?”

He chuckles, pulling you even closer. “Fuck, I missed you so much, baby.”

“I missed you, too.”

“If we’re not there in the next ten minutes I’m fucking you here and they’re going to have to live with it. They can’t blame me, they know it’s dangerous to make me wait for what I want.”

“If we fuck in here they can drive us to the hospital instead because you’d probably snap me in half. This space is far too small.”

“Hey, I can be careful and gentle!”

You hide a smirk. “No, I don’t think you could be right now.”

He sighs in defeat, pressing his face back to your neck. “I hate that you’re right.”

You stay like that, stroking his soft hair, both of you whimpering and groaning whenever you rub against each other. It’s like a miracle when the bus finally comes to a stop. You somehow stumble outside after squeezing past everyone else, random ghoul body parts pressing into you. The others loudly complain but quickly shut up when Dew gives them death stare after death stare. Swiss gives you an “I’m gonna knock on your door later” but Dew is so fast, you don’t have to worry about any bloody consequences.

“I already banished Aether to Rain’s room,” he explains, not bothering to go any slower even as you reach the hotel lobby and he has to focus on his human glamour again. “They always make me share these days because they know I’m not bringing anyone back.”

“And Aether?”

“He just loves to be roommates. But he can be Rain’s roommate for a few nights.”

You get into an elevator and he doesn’t waste a second before he kisses you, his mask bumping against your forehead. The ride is far too short anyway and a bing, followed by the doors sliding open, rips you out of the kiss. Dew is still impatient, practically fuming, so you’re dragged to the right room, watch him struggle with the keycard, mumbling a string of curses before he finally gets it open. He immediately throws the mask away again, his human glamour fading in an instant.

You’re on him before he can even react, pressing yourself against him as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. Dew immediately kisses you, hands digging into your ass so hard that you can feel his claws even through the fabric of your pants. He is frantic and bites your already broken lip more than once, moaning at the metallic taste of your blood. It makes you kiss him even harder.

You start fumbling with his jeans, but as you finally open the button he pushes your hands away, doing much faster work at getting them down. So impatient. He’s not even wearing briefs and for a second that surprises you so much you let out a moan when your hand connects with his bare erection.

“Thought they’d only be in the way,” Dew just says, pulling his shirt over his head.

You want to take him in, this body that you missed so much, but he’s already kissing you again, obscuring your view. It’s your turn to undress then but as you try to open your pants, he again pushes your hands away to do it much faster himself. You’re naked in practically thirty seconds.

“You’re so impatient,” you mumble. “Am I too slow for you?”

“Yes.”

You scoff, raking your hand through his hair when he starts kissing your neck. He nibbles on your skin, then gives a harsh bite. A sudden wave of lust makes your pussy throb.

“I waited long enough, ceremonials can fuck off. I just want to be inside of you and fuck you senseless.”

He’s not exaggerating. Two seconds later he’s too impatient to keep messing with your neck and pushes you onto the clean white hotel bed. You bounce, watching in awe as he crawls over you like a wild animal hunting down his prey. Yet again your struck by his preternatural beauty, the edges of his face framed by his silky hair, the white horns, flawless grey skin.

“You’re so pretty,” you say, reaching out to cradle his cheek.

Dew smirks, eyes glinting as he leans into your touch. “So are you, baby. The prettiest.”

The tender moment is gone as fast as it came. He leans down to kiss you again, tongue pushing into your mouth without any warning. He’s forceful, impatient, all passion and violent lust. Teeth dig into your lips, hands grope you painfully hard, his tail twists around your leg in a vice grip. You haven’t seen this animalistic side on him in a while and it reminds you of the early days of your relationship. He’s always passionate, always feral, even when he’s occasionally more submissive, but the rougher the sex the longer you need to recover. So he’s been trying to tame it.

There is nothing tame about him now.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted you as much as I do right now.” He exhales sharply, nose nuzzling your neck before his eyes meet yours again. “Fuck, I feel like I’m in heat. I can’t… please, tell me this is okay. Let me be rough with you.”

“Be as rough as you want. Please, I need you so much.”

He growls and you can see how any rational thought leaves him, his pupils blown wide with unbridled lust. He bends down and you think he’s about to go for your neck again, but he stops right by your ear instead, taking a heavy breath.

“What’s the safe word, baby?” he asks, nibbling on your earlobe. “Tell me.”

“Dew–”

“I know, but we need to be safe.”

“Red velvet.”

“Good girl.” He kisses your pulse, sucks just the tiniest bit. “Now you have to do exactly what I tell you. I’m gonna wreck you, baby, and you’ll take it like a good girl without complaints, yeah?”

“I will. Promise.”

“Good. Hands and knees, right now.”

He smacks your ass and you scramble to turn around, so fast you bump against him as you do so. Dew, ever helpful, pulls your hips up as soon as you manage. You can feel his erection against your ass when he leans into you, hot and already leaking. His sharp nails trail over your back, gripping your hips tightly. But he doesn’t go all in yet. Instead you can feel his mouth on your lower back. He bites gently while his hands kneed the flesh on your hips. You automatically sigh at his touch. Now that you have it again, you cannot imagine how you managed to go without it for so long. It’s pure bliss, the single best thing in the world, to be so close to him.

His mouth wanders down to your butt, nibbling at the soft skin there and trailing kisses all over. Suddenly, he bites you forcefully, a sharp pain spreading out in you as his fangs sink in. You yelp in surprise, a sound that turns into a moan when he licks the tender skin afterwards. Every touch sends sparks to your core and your walls clench around nothing.

“Hm, almost forgot how much you like this,” he mumbles, moving a few centimetres before he bites you again, soothing the spot with his lips this time. “I’m sorry I’m so impatient, baby.”

“’s okay, me too.”

“I’m just gonna fuck you now,” he says and you know he’s promising to be loving later, when this is out of the way. You have four whole days ahead of you for all kinds of love-making. Now all you want is to be released from this torture, to finally have him inside of you.

And there is no resistance when he slowly starts pushing in. “Fuck, you’re so wet, babe.”

“Mhm, more.”

“Wanna take it all at once, huh? My pretty baby, so hungry for my cock.” He rams into you, one hard thrust, bottoming out immediately. “Fucking have it.”

You cry out but there is only a dull pain when he hits your cervix, nothing else. The sensation quickly turns into pleasure when he starts moving, one slow thrust, testing the waters. His patience is still gone, though. As soon as he sees you’re okay he just hammers into you, roughly pulling your hips into his. You lose balance, falling face-down onto the mattress. Your hands reach out, uselessly grabbing the sheets for support. The change of angle makes you see stars. Suddenly he’s hitting you right every single time, so hard you’re a moaning, mewling mess within seconds. He gives your butt another smack, pain woven into pleasure, and you clench around him.

“Hmmm, fuck… Dew…” you whine. “Fuck, I’m gonna…”

„No no no no,“ he interrupts. „Don’t you dare come yet. Don’t you fucking dare.“

You whimper, unable to form any words of protest, and he pulls out just before you can stumble over the edge.

„‘m sorry…“ He inhales sharply, grabs your hips to flip you around. „Fuck, I need to see your face when you come. I didn’t think you’d be so fast.“

With that he pushes back in, same rough pace as before. This time, the angle isn’t as good but you’re not complaining because now you get to see him, too. And it is a sight, his lean body, muscles tense and moving, his chiseled features contorted in pleasure, forked tongue poking out in concentration. He leans down, pressing a sloppy kiss to your bruised lips. His hand finds your neck, just holding, not pressing in, a sharp nail scraping against your chin. You moan at the sensation, reaching out to grab his hair, pull the slightest bit.

“Hm, you like that, huh? You like being my little toy?”

You nod, drunk on lust, unable to think properly.

“Words,” he says. “F-fucking say it.”

“I love it,” you say. “So much.”

“I know you do, you’d… you’d let me do whatever the fuck I want.” He starts moving even harder, thrusting so deep you start seeing stars. “You take it so well, baby, so fucking well. I want to hear you fucking screaming for me.”

You’re getting very close again, his rhythm almost violent, right at the precipice between agony and lust. You can already feel yourself leaning over the edge, the first tremors of pleasure in your limbs, but then…

There is a suspicious creaking sound and you think the bed just sank by a few centimetres.  Dew falters for a moment but you grab his chin and force him to look at you.

„Don’t you fucking stop,“ you say breathlessly. “Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

You know he loves it when you’re commanding, so that’s all he needs to go on. He’s hammering into you until you’re finally falling, screaming his name as your walls convulse around him. It’s strangled, high-pitched, and you wrap your legs around his hips to keep from kicking out. His tail wraps around one of your thighs, almost pinching off the blood flow as he continues to thrust, the bed giving more painful moans. They barely register as you plummet into overstimulated whimpers, your whole body shaking.

When Dew comes it’s with a strangled moan, your name following soon after in a breathless whisper. He’s still propped up on one elbow but you can feel his body pressing you down. It’s an odd angle, something’s definitely not quite right.

“Fuck,” Dew says, still breathing hard.

“Mhm.”

He slowly rolls off of you, then moves to stand. „Uhm…“

„I think you broke it…“ you say, struggling to regain your composure as you sit up and take in the massive dent right in the middle of the bed.

„I broke it?“ he asks.

„You were the one pounding.“

„Your ass is right where the dent is, seems suspicious to me.“

You sigh, not sure if you should laugh or cry. When you try to get up the bed gives another tortured wail. Dew helps you stand and the sight is not any better from up there. What’s even worse than the dent is the wet stain right in the middle of it. You’re still dripping, but at least onto your thighs now.

„So, what do we do?“ you ask, fishing for some tissues to wipe yourself clean.

„Wait, let me get you a proper cloth.“

Before he can do that though there is a commotion right in front of the door to your hotel room. You recognise the voices of a bunch of ghouls and ghoulettes, talking all over each other so you can’t make out any words.

„Did someone die?“ Swiss finally asks loud and clear.

„No!“ Dew yells. „All good! Leave us the fuck alone!“

„Open the door?“

„Fuck no!“

The door opens away.

„Aether still had a card… OH!“

You cover your body with the sheets and go digging for some clothes.

„Don’t get dressed on my account,“ Swiss says with a smirk.

You think Dew is going to kill him right in this instance. But you’re in no mind to prevent that from happening. Instead you decide the bathroom is the safest option, so you go change in there, leaving the other ghouls to mediate.

In your hurry you only grab your panties and the shirt you wore for your flight. Your luggage is still in the bus, so you don’t have a choice. It has to be enough, you can shower and change again later when you get your clothes. You have no idea when Dew gets dressed but once you come back out he’s wearing boxers and a Metallica shirt, looking unharmed. It’s pretty obvious what you have just been up to, his hair is sticking up at odd angles and his cheeks are flushed. You can’t tell if it’s anger or the last remnants of lust.

Swiss, Aether, Rain, Cirrus and Cumulus are all standing in the middle of the room, their voices blending together into a cacophony of teasing, rage and laughter. Dew has his arms crossed, pouting, visibly struggling not to murder anyone.

You’re pretty sure you’re beet red by now.

„What’s going on here, eh?“

You freeze when you recognise Papa’s voice. He’s dressed in a red track suit and looks infinitely tired when he enters your room, probably woken up by the endless arguing of the ghouls.

„They broke the bed,“ Aether says before any of you can find a different excuse.

„They–“ Papa sighs. „Why am I not surprised?“

„We uh… need to go to reception to ask for a different room,“ Dew says. „Or… you.“

Papa’s eyes widen. „Me? I should go?“

„Well, you’re the authority figure here.“ Aether says.

„What do I tell them?“ he asks, fidgeting uncomfortably.

„I’m pretty sure they will know exactly why it’s broken,“ Swiss says, then loses his shit yet again, wheezing with laughter.

The other ghouls join in and you crawl into Dew’s arms, hiding your crimson face in the crook of his neck. This day seems to be truly cursed.

✦✧✦

Turns out being cursed is not all that bad.

Twenty minutes later, you and Dew get a cute new room, the last vacant one they have – the honeymoon suit. Because the hotel staff can’t see the ghouls in their earthly forms and the risk is too high, Papa is walking you. You got your suitcase in the meantime, the wheels soundless on the thick carpet as you trail after him. Face still flushed, you feel awful that he has to do this for you, especially after a ritual when he’s so exhausted.

„Alright, more careful now, huh? Be happy you only broke the bed and not your amore.“

He looks at Dew as he says this and your cheeks get even hotter. Dew only smirks and with a defeated sigh, papa retreats, closing the door on the way out. You hear him mutter something in Italian but when you look around the room, you stop caring.

It’s so beautiful.

The bed is heart-shaped, so much bigger than the other one, and the whole room is a soft shade of pink. Walls, carpet, furniture. All of it.

“That’s a lot of pink.”

“Whatever,” you say, jumping onto the bed. “It’s so nice!”

“Oh, hey, careful! Not that your cute ass breaks another bed.”

Your nostrils are tickled by the smell of roses, but there are non in the room. You find two chocolates on the pillows and hold one out for him. Dew smiles at your antics but joins you on the bed nevertheless, bringing his mouth to your hand and taking the treat right from your fingers. His hand closes around yours and he licks the molten chocolate off your skin.

“Dew…”

He starts sucking. Hard. “What? Just enjoying my treat.”

You can’t help but moan, especially when he looks up, your eyes locking. His tongue languidly swirls around your digits and he moans, a sound that immediately gets you wet. He’s so insatiable, the embers never fully cooling down, one spark enough to light a whole fire within seconds.

“Baby…” You reach out, pushing a strand of his hair behind his ears. “You look so hot right now, with my fingers in your mouth.”

Dew moans again, louder, practically vibrating. Slowly, he crawls up to you without breaking eye contact and lays half on top of you. He’s already getting hard again and even though you still feel tender, you could…

Your eyes drift past him and catch a glimpse of the open bathroom. You jump, effectively pushing Dew off of you. “Hey!” he complains. “What the–”

„Dew, we have a bathtub!” You shake his shoulder in excitement. “A bathtub! You have to take a bath with me!“

„So we can break that thing next?“

„No, I mean an innocent bath. Washing, you know. Getting clean. Relaxing“

„Sounds boring. We were about to do something way better.“

You pout. „We don’t have a bathtub at home. The other room didn’t have one. We only have it for one night. And it looks like it makes bubbles!“

He takes in your face, the big eyes, the pout. His lip twitches. “Fine.”

Fifteen minutes later the tub is full, lavender scent from a diffuser and fog clouding the bathroom. Dew is the first one inside the tub, despite his complaints, and plays around with the bubble settings. You’re fixing your hair up, trying to avoid getting it wet.

“Come on,” Dew whines. “I want you with me. It was your idea.”

“Please stop complaining. You’re going to feel so relaxed after this.”

When you walk over, you can feel his eyes on your naked body, taking you in, and the confidence boost is instant. You slowly dip your toes into the water but flinch back before your foot  fully covered.

„What?“ Dew asks.

Your toes immediately turn bright red, throbbing in pain. „That’s too hot.“

„It’s not, just get in.“

„No.“

„Baby, it’s only as hot as it came out of the faucet. I didn’t make it any hotter.“

„It hurts. Gonna burn my pussy and you can’t want that.“

Dew rolls his eyes but you can tell he’s mostly amused. He moves his arms in the water for a bit, probably absorbing some of its heat.

„Okay, should be better now.“ He reaches out and takes your hand, slowly guiding you back over. „Come to me, baby.“

You slowly step inside the tub, water still wonderfully hot but not scorching. Your muscles, tense your travels and the bed-breaking, finally relax. Dew pulls your back to his chest and you lean against him, his body just as hot as the water. You can already feel a thin layer of sweat forming on your forehead. But compared to all the cold and lonely nights you spent at the abbey, all the times you’ve been longing for his heat, this is exactly what you need tonight. Once you’re settled, Dew presses one of the buttons and you feel the gentlest bubbles caressing your skin.

You turn sideways slightly so you can kiss his neck, somewhere close to his windpipe. You feel him swallow. “It’s so nice, Dew. Don’t you think?”

“Mhm.”

His hands find your stomach, squishing slightly, before he fully wraps his arms around you.

Then he stops moving.

What you don’t know is that Dew is thinking about your earlier conversation. He knows that humans greatly value declarations of love. He’s still unfamiliar with the feeling. He knows lust, desire, greed – and he’s very good at showing those.

Love, however?

That’s new. A good kind of new, but still hard to understand. At least the kind of love that he shares with you. Of course he loves his fellow ghouls. And he loves performing, he loves playing the guitar. But loving you feels different, much more profound, almost daunting, which makes expressing it so fucking hard.

You’re really good at showing him, however, with all your gentle touches, softly whispered words, all the small things you do for him throughout the day like making sure his shirts are clean or bringing him snacks during practice. He knows you love the physical demonstrations of his affection, but he also knows making you come five times a night is not enough. While he got the „I love you“s down by now, the gentle touches too, there are still some things he doesn’t understand. Human things. Like… buying flowers, long speeches about his feelings or going to fancy restaurants for dinner on your anniversary. Or… taking baths together.

But at the same time you’ve never expressed wishes for any of those things. Well, except the last.

„I’ve never seen you so contemplative,“ you whisper as to avoid startling him. He’s been staring at the ceiling for a few minutes now.

Dew sighs. „Sorry, kinda stuck in my head. I thought you were napping against me.“

You run your hand through the water, spreading your fingers out as you do. „What are you thinking about?“

„You.“

„Me?“

„Yeah, I… what you said. That you thought I didn’t miss you.“

„I never said it like that,“ you argue, sitting up. „Don’t worry about it, I know I misjudged. I was just anxious, you know I get like that sometimes when I’m stuck in my head.“

He lets out another thought-heavy breath. „You feel loved by me, right?“

„Yeah, of course I do.“ You furrow your brow. „Dew, I never meant to give you the feeling that you’re doing anything wrong. Because you’re not.“

His expression is unreadable. „But is it enough?“

Never in your life would you have thought Dew would be one to doubt himself. His confidence, the sass, the brazenness… it makes you forget that this is all new for him, being in a committed relationship. Having a human mate, no less.

„It’s absolutely enough.“ You turn around, moving to straddle him, supported by your hands on his warm chest. „You give me so much that I never knew I needed, Dew.“

„Like what?“

„Like… unconditional love, the type of intense, all-consuming love that makes every previous experience seem like a waste of time. And you accept me so fully, you make me laugh, you reassure me all the time even when my doubts don’t make sense. Hell, you show me how easy loving can be, that it doesn’t have to be painful.“

„But you were crying. Actually you cried twice because of me now.“

„Dew, sweetheart, I cried way more often because of you. Only you didn’t see it.“

His eyes widen. „What?“

„Well, not because of you. Or at least not because you hurt me. But because being without you sucks, because I can’t always switch off my overthinking. It doesn’t matter, though, because I would choose you over and over again even if I could only see you one day a year.“

„Sure?“

„Yes, absolutely.“

„You would be so unhappy,“ he says. „I couldn’t do that to you.“

„Well, we’re lucky it’s not like that.“

His hands find your hips, running up your sides. „But you were unhappy this past month?“

You lean down to rest your face against his neck and he embraces you, wet fingertips dancing over your back. „No. I was just missing you. But you can only miss what you truly love and to experience that is a blessing in and of itself.“

He hums and presses a soft kiss to your hair. „It’s just… I missed you so much, I want you to know that.“

You lift your head back up to look at him. „I do know that.“

„There were days I didn’t feel like going out with the others at all, doing all these cool things, because I wanted to experience them with you. Or they complained about me being on the phone all the time but really all I wanted was to text you instead of talking to them. When they teased me about it I wanted to rip their heads off because they just wouldn’t understand how awful it felt. How much it hurt to think of you being so far away.“

You lean down to kiss him. „It’s okay, baby, you don’t have to prove to me that you missed me.“

He sighs, a long drawn-out sound, like he’s still not satisfied. „Maybe I’m bad at showing things like that.“

You shake your head. “No, you–“

“Stop trying to make excuses for me. You need to tell me when I do something wrong.”

“Dew.”

“What?”

“Nothing you do is wrong.” You grab his head, thumbs pressing into his cheeks. “You’re looking for an unnecessary fight.”

“Am I?”

“Yea. Because you want to be mean to yourself. I won’t let you.”

His eyes narrow, but you just smile and squish his face until he pouts.

“I’m Dew and I can’t accept that someone truly loves me,” you say, imitating his voice and pushing your thumbs together to get his lips to move. “So I find reasons why the person should hate me instead.”

He scowls at you, then suddenly turns his head to snap at your thumb. You yelp in surprise, then you have to giggle.

“I don’t sound like that,” he says, letting go of your finger. “And I can accept it.”

You run your finger over his bottom lip, then lean in for a gentle kiss. He returns it, softly moving his mouth against yours. Tangling your fingers in his hair, you deepen the kiss, taste him. He sighs into it, hands moving down to your waist again.

“I love you,” you mumble against his lips.

“I love you, too,” he says. “‘m so happy you’re here.”

“Me too.”

You rest your face back against his neck, hugging his body close to yours while the bubbles surround you, a soothing white noise. It’s relaxing, the lavender scent, the moving water, Dew’s warm skin against yours.

“I wish we had a bathtub at home,” you mumble.

„We can just stay in here forever, I can keep the water warm.”

“I’ll turn into a fish if we do that.” You sigh, thinking, kissing his neck one more time. “Dew, my baby, my sweet little menace, would you still lo–“

“Yes, don’t even finish that question. I’d love you in any shape, silly.”

You lift your head up, squinting at him. “What’s that tone?”

His eyes widen. “What?”

“That tone.” You fully sit up, moving your hips forward. His cock is right at you centre now and you rock your hips for good measure. “Sounds… bratty.”

“Ohhh… ugh. No?”

“I know you think you’ve got me wrapped around your little finger. But you’re just as tightly wrapped around mine.”

You can tell he’s excited, eyes so laser-focused on yours, mouth slightly parted. “What if I am? What would you do?”

“I would make sure you know that this goes both ways,” you say. “That I can turn you into a puddle just as well as you can do with me.”

Dew’s hands wander over your back, his sharp claws leaving burning trails on your skin all while a smirk is forming on his face. “Sure you can?”

“I know it, yea.” You grind your hips again, his erection rubbing between your thighs. “You doubt me? Because I think your dick doesn’t.”

Dew groans, hands shooting to your hips to keep you still. “Hm, you little minx.”

“Repeat that and I won’t let you come.”

His mouth opens. Then closes again. He’s contemplating whether you’d really do that.

You decide to stop teasing and just show him how much you mean it as plainly as possible. So you lean down and kiss him, roughly this time, pushing his lips open to taste him. His tongue meets yours but it’s gentle; he plays your game, lets you explore his mouth with nothing but a purring moan. He’s still vaguely tasting of chocolate.

“You like that?” you whisper against his lips.

“Hmmm.”

One of your hands slowly moves over his chest, trailing his collarbones, from left to right and back, until you let it dance further up to his neck. You don’t dare to squeeze, you’re not as confident and practiced as he is, but you keep your hand there to feel him swallow. The next kiss is more heated. He tries to take control but you use your other hand to grab his hair and pull him back just slightly. Dew freezes.

“No shenanigans,” you warn, taking over, kissing down his cheek, then his jaw, nibbling at his skin as you go.

“Gotta bite harder if you want to achieve your goal,” he teases.

You stop, go back to his mouth and catch his bottom lip between your teeth, pulling. He yelps, moans when you bite harder. Despite being in the water you can feel yourself getting wetter from that sound alone. When you’re satisfied, you lick over his lip, then give him a soft kiss because you just can’t leave it at that.

“That’s what you do to me all the time,” you say. “Feels good, right?”

He hums and you kiss down his neck again, sucking bruises into his ghoul skin that sadly won’t linger. It doesn’t matter, you do it anyway, and when you reach his pulse, just below his ear, you bite him again. He swallows any sounds, but Dew’s hips buck, giving him away.

You smirk. “Ah. Look at you.”

“Babe…” he whines.

“What? Now you’re done being a bitch?”

“Fuck this. Fuck me, right now. I waited a whole damn month.”

“Sorry, not taking orders from a brat.”

Shifting your hips again, you rub your pussy over his cock, repeating the movement a few times until he’s whimpering, hands running up and down your body. When you place him at your entrance, his lips part but he doesn’t say it, only growls.

“Pretty noises,” you say. “Do I get some more?”

“Fuck, babe.”

“You want it? Gotta beg.”

He tries thrusting up and into you, but you’re prepared, shifting to the side. You press him down with all your weight, hands on his flat, tense stomach, until you’re barely touching him anywhere else anymore.

“Please,” he finally whispers.

“What was that? I don’t hear shit.”

“Please, fuck me. I need you. I missed you so much.” He growls, hips jerkin in the water. “I can’t wait. Please. Stop starving me.”

You sink down on him and he groans so loudly that it echoes in the tiled room, hands squeezing your hips, gripping you like a lifeline. For a long moment, you just stay like this, taking in the mess of sensations. It feels amazing, the water only adding to the intensity.

“Thought this was an innocent bath?” he says between deep breaths.

“Shut up.”

“What?”

“Shut up’n let me do my thing.”

His pupils widen, hips jerking the tiniest bit. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

“I know, stop babbling.”

He bites down his smirk, swallows hard. “Sorry.”

You give him a warning scowl and start moving slowly, using his shoulders as leverage. You’re scared of the water spilling over, so you keep the movements deliberate, a slow, steady rhythm. Dew tilts his head back, but keeps his eyes on your body. One hand moves up to cup one of your breasts and he squeezes. You can’t help but arch your back, forgetting that you’re supposed to be in control for a second.

“You look so pretty like this,” he says. “Bouncing on my cock with all the bubbles around you.”

You snap back. “Shut up, I swear. This is my moment.”

“It is,” he whispers. “You’re so hot.”

It’s just impossible to get him to keep his mouth shut, so you decide to stop and just revel in his compliments. You’re actually impressed by how patient he now suddenly is, because he doesn’t try to get you to move faster and he also doesn’t start moving himself.

“You’re being so good now,” you say, leaning down for a kiss. “You really want to come, huh? No edging tonight?”

“Hm, no time for that.”

“What? You busy tonight?”

He fights a smirk, but you and your already protesting bones silently agree. With the slow build-up, you’re already impatient yourself, so you rock your hips a little harder, water splashing against the rim of the tub.

“Hmm, you’re killing me,” Dew mumbles, voice strained. “I’m s-so close. ‘s too slow.”

“Oh, you wanna come?”

“Hmmm.”

“What?”

“Babe…”

“Can’t hear you.”

You stop moving and his eyes widen, hips bucking. “Please. Please let me come.”

The smirk on your face is too strong to hide and you move again, go a little harder until you feel your own orgasm approaching. Dew groans, nails digging into the flesh of your hips and then he lets out a low sob, hips stuttering into yours as you feel him release right into you. The sounds he makes push you over the edge as well, legs trembling and walls clenching around him. He whimpers in overstimulation and you feel your eyes tearing up as well.

“Fuck,” he says.

“Hm.”

“Baby…”

You look at him, his big, beautiful eyes so filled with emotions. “Yes?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“I won’t let you go again. I don’t care.”

You sigh, hands moving to his neck. “Don’t think about it now.”

He shakes his head and pulls you close, some more water spilling over the edge of the tub. But you don’t care. You just want to hold him. And so you do, slowly coming down from your high. Your body is protesting wildly, tired and tender and overstimulated, but the water helps.

Dew hugs you almost painfully tight and by now you feel ridiculous for even thinking he struggled less than you. When you look up at him he’s still somewhere else, lost in thought. You decide that this is a conversation for later and snuggle back into him. You don’t care if your skin gets wrinkly, if you turn into a fish, all you want is to stay like this forever.

✦✧✦

Half an hour later you’re ready for bed, all snuggled up in the soft sheets and pillows of the honeymoon suite. Dew is true to his promise and lets you be the little spoon, strong arms wrapped around your midriff as his nose tickles your neck. You’re bone-tired and yet you try to stay awake for a little longer, just to feel his breath against your neck, to stroke the back of his hand with yours and thank Satan that you finally get to be with him again.

You think Dew is already asleep, but then he starts kissing your shoulder, sighing contently. The peace doesn’t last long, though. You should have known it.

There is a loud knock right before you feel like falling asleep.

”What–“

“Please?” Aether asks, voice muffled by the door. “Rain won’t cuddle.”

You smile to yourself and watch as Dew gets up to open for him.

✦ ✧ ✦ 

I feel so weird about this chapter, I think I'm kinda burnt-out from writing smut, so I am deeply sorry if this doesn't hit the right spots. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and thanks so much if you read all of this ♡

Special thanks to my Sodo anon who had the idea with the breaking bed, this goes out to you :)

Part 4

[nctsplug02]

hey! can i request y/n who is obsessed with sucking jaehyuns cock? like literally y/n can suck his cock all day long😩

[6:59pm]

genre: fluff and smut

warnings: blowjob (male receiving), praising, degrading, slight daddy kink.

daddy<3: i have a meeting @7, don’t bother me.

you smirked when seeing the message, hoping off the bed and running to his office and poking your head in.

“babe, i have a meeting—?”

“ah, welcome jaehyun. you’re the second person so far.” a deep voice says from the other side and jaehyun nods, pulling his airpods out and unconnecting.

you slip in quietly, closing the door shut behind you and peeking over to see if he was muted— and he was.

“y/n, no. i know what you want and no— we almost got caught last time.” you frown, letting out a whimper. “just wanna pleasure my daddy.” you say, lowering yourself onto your knees and turning him so his knees would clear the small box.

you slip under his desk and you stare up at him with lust. “just a little.. this’ll be my last time. i promise, daddy.” you rub his cock through his sweats. “last time.” you pout, tugging in his sweats.

“whore.” he mutters, turning his laptop screen up a bit and then tugging on his sweats until his cock sprung freely.

you giggle, reaching up and grabbing his cock. jaehyun plops himself onto his work chair and huffs. he doesn’t bother to fix his camera, instead, letting it stay above his eyes.

“damn, whore. always getting her ways.” he flinches when you wrap your mouth around him. “mmm.” you moan, bobbing your head slowly.

“love your cock. love it so much.” you say while licking under his tip. the pleasure and sensation causing him to moan. his knees flinch and his grip on the arm rests tighten.

“such a yummy dick.” you slap his tip against your tongue. “shut up, slut.” he pushes your head making you gag as his cock slides into your throat. “just keep sucking my dick, cockslut.” he grabs your hair and repeatedly pushes your head down.

he smirks a bit when hearing your gags and your tiny whines when given a chance to even make a noise. the saliva gathering up your throat and sliding down his cock in a sloppy way.

you gasp for air as he lets your head go. he makes sure to keep his hand above your head so you wouldn’t bump into his desk.

“nose, baby. use your nose like i taught you.” you nod, jerking him. “again.” you heave, pressing a peck on his tip.

jaehyun grabs your hair again and begins to shove your head down onto his cock. his cock easing down your throat— a sensation making you tear up.

“nose, baby.” he reminds you and grins when hearing you take a breath through your nose. “good girl.” he pulls you off and listens as you heave again.

“make daddy cum.” he says, shoving your head down again. you moan, letting your tears slip down your heated cheeks.

your throat squeezing around his tip, making him cum down your throat. “gah— fuck, baby.” he grunts, falling back into his chair. “fuck, i love it when you give me these blowjobs.” he sighs, pushing his chair back and letting you crawl out on all fours.

you moan, tapping his knee and sticking your tongue out. showing him your tongue with a bit of his cum. you moan, squeezing your eyes shut and shaking your head side to side gently.

“did i do good, daddy?” he chuckles out of breath. “you did.. so good. so so good.” he rubs your cheek.

“uh, mr jeong? jaehyun— you still there, buddy?” a voice calls making jaehyun slam his laptop shut.

“get up here and ride me.” he says holding his cock up high.

[s0dium]

Pretty thing

HARD DOM! GETO X F!READER 

A/n: I mayyyyy have got a bit carried away. This is just some geto brain rot because you know im obsessed with him  (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)

Warnings: Rough fingering, collar, leash, slight degrading, picture taking, pre-cursed Geto, daddy kink, (more geto in sweat-pants because i am literally obsessed with the idea)

“So pretty….”

 Drool dripped down your cheeks and onto the valley of your breasts, along with the tears that streamed from your rolled back eyes. Your breathing hitched when you felt the powerful tug of your neck being pulled up so your face met that of a grinning Geto who hovered above you. The good news was that you could no longer feel the burn on the leather pink color on your skin, the bad news was you knew it was going to leave an apparent mark for weeks (not like he was going to let you take the collar of anytime soon.)

 “Did you hear what I said doll?”

 What ever was left of your mind tried to reign back its focus on the warm inviting voice of the man held tightly on your leash, but as it turned out, there wasn’t much. All you could do was dizzily nod, earning a chuckled from Geto while he eyes the way your hips desperately humped his hand. Your pleasure came in waves of electric current that pulsed through your sloppy pussy and has  

 “Come on speak to me baby, I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

 The wet sounds of Geto’s fingers curling and thrusting in and out of you filled the room and your senses. His digits filled you so much better then your hands ever could, hitting that gummy spot inside your walls over and over again perfectly, and you wondered how you were ever satisfied with the way you masturbated before you met Geto. 

 “Come on angel,” he withdrew his fingers from your clenching hole and used his thumb and index finger to harshly role your clit between his digits. The grip Geto had on your leash tightened as he brought your face to his, so his lips grazed on the lobe of your ear. “Fucking say something.” 

 “Ah~” By some miracle you managed to move your mouth to say something, but all ability to create comprehensible words was lost to you, leaving you only to babble about how good you felt.  “feel’s s-s-sooo good daddy m’thank you, thank you, m’need cock please fuck-”  Your hands were currently restrained in leather handcuffs behind your back, making you squirm and thrash in a futile attempt to get out of the restraints. It almost hurt how badly you needed to feel Geto. You really tried to hold back, to maintain at least some dignity you had left, you really did. But when your teary eyes fall on his erection that strained against his sweat pants, you couldn’t help but desperately hump the air. Geto knew how obsessed you were with him in sweat pants. He knew perfectly well how you loved the way it rode low on his waist, revealing his happy trail that you loved burying your nose into when you obediently suck him off. Geto hummed in amusement while he lovingly stroked your pussy folds, occasionally dipping his finger into your whole. 

 “I’m a lucky man arent I? To have such a such an obedient baby with such a pretty pussy….” His hand comes to your face to caress your cheek, and you nestle into his touch while his thumb wipes away your tears. Your too busy immersing in the warmth of his palm to notice the flash of light and the sound of a shutter above you. Even when you open your eyes in curiosity, all you see is Geto staring at the screen of his phone with a lazy grin spread on his face.

[softiem]

you used to paint his skies (pt. 2)

pairing: Bokuto Koutarou x GN!Reader

overview: The one in which Bokuto is still swearing up and down that he loves you, but the nagging feeling in your chest is too strong to ignore.

word count: ~4.3k

content warnings: mentions of cheating, swearing, MSBY!Bokuto, mildly suggestive scene at the end (no nsfw), our baby Bokuto kind of loses it at the end, don’t let the fluffy interludes deceive you again

notes: I’M SO SORRY FOR LITERALLY BEING DEAD FOR 6 MONTHS,,, Here’s the second part to “you used to paint his skies” :D (I think this is better than part one — at least I hope so). Some people asked to be tagged for this second part, so those will be below. Thank you for reading, darlings ʕ ´•̥̥̥ ᴥ•̥̥̥`ʔ <333

part one.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

“Baby?”

Faint sniffles came from Bokuto, whose head was currently nestled on your lap, the two of you strewn across the sofa. His arms were wrapped tight around your waist, as if he were afraid that holding you any looser would cause you to disappear from his arms. His voice was quiet, meek — nothing like the loud, boisterous ball of energy you’d grown to adore, to cherish.

To fall in love with.

Now, here the both of you were, a pile of cracked and fragmented pieces of the love you once shared, desperately grasping at whatever you could salvage from the mess.

You hummed a response.

“Are we gonna be okay?” Bokuto turned his head, his eyes staring up at you — wide, teary, and filled with a broken sense of hope.

In an attempt to avoid breaking down a third time, you cleared your throat. You still couldn’t look down at him, into his eyes that seemed to praise your very existence, even after the pain you caused.

“Please.” His voice cracked.

“Let’s not talk about that right now, Kou-Bokuto.”

He bit his lip roughly, enough to bite into the skin and draw a slight trace of blood. Choking on a weak sob, he nestled his head into your stomach once more. He couldn’t stop you from calling him that name anymore; he’d lost that privilege.

What could he have been asking for? For you to simply just call him your Koutarou again? For you not to leave him and stay in his arms? For you to kiss him and wipe those tears running from his pretty eyes as you tell him you’ll love him forever, no matter what?

Quite honestly, Bokuto didn’t know what he was asking of you; he didn’t know what he wanted from you.

The only thing running through his mind was the fact that he’d just ruined the best thing to ever happen to him.

You.

You, the love of his life. He knew you like the back of his hand.

He knew how, despite your small tendency to be romantically constipated, you tried your best to love him — even to the point of using stupidly cheesy pet names for each other.

– – – – –

“Please, baby!” Bokuto had your hands tightly grasped in his. “I swear, if you do this for me, I won’t ever ask you for anything else for the rest of my life — okay, that’s a lie because I really want ice cream after this, but you know what I mean!”

“Kou.” You drew in a breath. “I’m saying yes to the ice cream later, but those are the cheesiest pet names I have ever heard of.”

You saw the way Bokuto visibly deflated as he heard your soft rejection of his idea.

For the rest of the night (after stopping by the store and getting yourselves two tubs of ice cream, of course), the two of you sat cuddled up on the sofa half-paying attention to whatever B-list movie was recommended to you. Occasionally, you would hear Bokuto let out a deep sigh, most likely to try and guilt trip you into doing what he asked of you earlier.

Turning your head to face him, you grinned at the little pout on his lips as his eyes bore holes into the TV screen.

“Hey, Kou.”

Nothing. His attention stayed glued to the TV. The only sign that showed he’d heard you was the deepening of his pout.

“Koutaro, pretty boy. I’m talking to you,” you giggled.

Still nothing. You racked your brain for all of the possible ways this could end — every one of them resulted in the same thing.

Sighing, you brought up a finger to poke at his cheek. “Hey, dovey.”

If Bokuto were a dog, his ears would have stood straight up and his tail would have started wagging as he whipped his head around to look at you.

“Say that again,” he demanded, his eyes wide and sparkling and the corner of his lips twitching, just barely restraining a smile.

When you didn’t reply, his fingers prodded at your side — a promise to tickle you if you didn’t humour him right now.

“Say it again! Who am I?”

“You’re my dovey.”

“And who are you?”

You struggled to fight the urge to curl up into yourself as you answered him, “I’m your lovey.”

“And what are we together?” Bokuto brought his face closer to yours, his eyes going back and forth between your eyes and lips.

“We’re lovey dovey.” You completed it with a pair of awkward jazz hands.

With that, Bokuto’s face split into a blinding smile as his laughter rang through the living room. He brought you tight into his arms and buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“Yes! I knew you could do it, lovey!” Your cheeks grew warm as you were subjected to his rain of kisses on your face. 

Pulling him in for one last kiss to your lips, you whispered, “I love you so much, Kou.”

– – – – –

He knew how he was always the first thing on your mind; you’d put him as your first priority without fail, no matter how busy you were, even when he hadn’t put you as his.

– – – – –

Bokuto stared up at the crisp, white ceiling — hospitals were never a fun place to be in. He was broken from his thoughts when the door to his room burst open, revealing you in your ever-ethereal work clothes rushing toward him.

“Babe! Are you alright?” Stopping at the side of his bed, you brought his hand up to place a kiss on his knuckles.

Bokuto let out a light laugh as he intertwined his fingers with yours. “Yeah, it’s just a sprained ankle. Nothing to worry about, honey.”

“What do you mean ‘nothing to worry about’? Your coach said that you’d have to be out for two weeks!”

“That’s not too much! It’s not like I’ll be missing the whole season, angel.”

“But, Kou, you also have to–”

Bokuto stopped your worried rambling as he pulled you down, giving you a soft kiss on your lips and cheeks. He gave you a smile.

“Stop worrying, baby! Everything will be fine because I have the cutest, smartest, and kindest nurse to help me recover, right?”

“And who’s that?” You sent him a teasing look as your hands shuffled through your pockets looking for your phone.

“You, silly!” He paused before staring up at you in concern. “You are going to take care of me, right, baby?”

“I don’t know about that, Kou. Work has been hectic lately.” You pulled out your phone.

“But I’m injured! And I’m your boyfriend too! You can’t just leave your injured boyfriend alone to fend for himself! Baby!” Walking away from his bed, you exited the hospital room, tapping away on your phone.

A few minutes passed before you returned, seeing Bokuto sulking in the hospital bed, a familiar pout on his lips.

Your eyes softened as you gave him a smile. “Guess who just got two weeks off?”

– – – – –

The foundation of your relationship was built upon the fact that the two of you knew each other like no other; you loved each other like no other.

So how had everything culminated into such a mess?

“Bokuto.” You felt the way his body stiffened as you called his name.

“Yes,” he hesitated, “honey?”

“Do you remember what I told you a couple years ago? About what I thought of love?”

Feeling a prickling sensation in his nose, Bokuto squeezed his eyes shut, forcing out a few tears that had collected on his eyelashes.

His voice came out hoarse and weak as he whispered, “I could never forget.”

– – – – –

The sky was enveloped in a cloak of darkness, but not even the onslaught of exhaustion could prevent the two of you from leaning back on the picnic blanket to stare up at the shimmering stars.

“Baby?” Bokuto turned his head to where you lay beside him. You hummed in response, half of your attention taken by the stars.

“What do you think about love?”

You raised an eyebrow, rolling onto your side to fully look at your boyfriend.

The moonlight casted harsh shadows on his face, but the way he looked at you — eyes sparkling with curiosity and the corners of his lips curled into a light smile — softened the darkness surrounding the two of you.

“Where did that question come from?” You raised a hand to lightly trace over the curves and slopes of his face; your thumb caressed his cheek as he leaned into your touch.

“Answer my question first, and then I’ll tell you.” His eyes turned into little crescent moons as he smiled at you. “Deal?”

You pretended to think about it for a few seconds. “Hm, three kisses please,” you said, wiggling three of your fingers.

Bokuto laughed, indulging you with a kiss to both of your cheeks and a final kiss to your lips.

“Okay, okay,” you giggled. “You asked me what I think about love?”

He nodded.

“Well,” you sighed, turning back to face the midnight sky above you, “I think that love is like the sky — the sun, to be specific. It’s always changing, and everything is so unpredictable about it. There’s so much potential for destruction in what the sky holds. But, there’s always one constant. Do you know what it is, Kou?” You looked at him.

“What is it, angel?” His golden eyes glimmered, as if they were holding stars themselves.

Adjusting your position on the picnic blanket (you curled closer into Bokuto, who wrapped an arm around your shoulders), you continued, “It’s the sun. No matter how much it rains or snows or whatever weather catastrophe is happening, the sun is always going to be there. Sure, you can have multiple suns like those Star Wars planets, but…” you trailed off, looking into his eyes. “... I think I’m happy with my one sunshine.”

Bokuto, ever the romantic, pulled you into a nearly-bone-crushing hug as he laughed into your shoulder. After peppering kisses to your neck and jaw, he pulled away to look at you. He sported the brightest smile, but something sparkled behind those eyes of his.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re getting cheesier than me.”

You groaned, leaning away from him, “Shut up, Kou!”

He giggled before placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Now let’s get home before these mosquitoes eat us alive, honey.”

“And then you’ll tell me where you got that question from?”

“Of course, honey! I never break a deal!”

– – – – –

How could he forget what you said? Every word you’ve ever spoken to him, he’s grasped onto like a lifeline, as if they would be your last. He was so close to bursting — so close to pulling himself off of your lap, looking into your pretty eyes, grasping your shoulders, and yelling at you, screaming at you, asking why you would think he could ever forget anything about you. How dare you think he could ever forget anything about you?

But he couldn’t do that. Not to you. Not anymore.

He didn’t realise that you’d gone silent — his world had gone silent — until your sniffles broke his reverie. His arms tightened around your waist as his head nuzzled into your stomach once again; it was a broken act of comfort.

“Honey,” the edges of his voice cracked as he called out for you. “Talk to me. Please. Don’t… don’t stay quiet.”

Being met with another bout of silence was almost excruciating. Bokuto was struggling to keep himself together, to keep his head above the water before he drowned in his thoughts of losing you.

He launched himself up from your lap, grabbing your face with shaky hands. He had tears running down his face once again. His face was blotchy, and his hair was a mess. He was a mess.

“Please, lovey,” he whispered. If you stayed silent just one minute longer, he’d collapse. He was sure of it. Fighting the urge to just sit himself in your lap, pull you tight against him, and beg you not to leave, Bokuto settled with caressing the skin under your shirt.

Finally, you broke the silence.

“I forgot to tell you one thing that night.” You moved your hand from where it was resting in his hair back to your side; he tensed at the loss of your touch.

He swallowed, his anxiety began to pile up once again. “What’d you forget, baby?”

“Even though the sun” — your voice cracked — “is a constant, sometimes it can be too much. Burn too bright and dry up everything underneath the sky. Sometimes...” you paused to take a deep breath, trying to swallow back the lump that was growing in your throat. “Sometimes the sun can do even worse harm than anything the sky could do.”

Bokuto could feel the gradual increase of his heartbeat. He shook his head, his fingers involuntarily digging into your skin. No, no, you didn’t mean that. You couldn’t mean that. If you did he… he didn’t know what he would do.

“I’m sorry, Bokuto,” you murmured, “I can’t stay here any longer.”

You tried to pry yourself out of his grip, but he wouldn’t relent. His arms were shaking as he pulled you even closer into him. He was whispering something to himself.

“Bokuto, I’m being serious.” You tried to keep your voice stable but failed miserably — it all came out shaky, your tone uneven. “Let me go.”

His whispers grew louder until you could finally understand what he was saying.

“No, no. This isn’t real. I love you. I love you. No, don’t leave. Please don’t leave. I love you.”

You called his name. Once, twice, thrice. As you called for him, his whispers grew to full-blown cries.

“Bokuto!”

“I’M SORRY DON’T LEAVE ME!”

But the only thing your eyes chose to focus on was the trail of red and purple leading down his neck.

You felt a prickling sensation behind your eyes, a feeling that had grown familiar to you in the past few hours.

Bokuto caught the wandering of your eyes down his neck, a faraway mist muddled the irises he loved gazing into; he realised what you were staring at, forcing down a choked sob. He clenched his jaw, violently cursing himself for making you feel like you weren’t enough, like you weren’t the one keeping him standing straight.

Like you weren’t his sun, moon, stars, and whatever else you filled the fucking sky with.

He gently moved your head, trying to get you to look back into his eyes and away from the bruised mistake that marred his skin. His thoughts only filled with one thing — “Come back to me, baby.”

Waves of relief crashed against him once you met his eyes.

“Baby– Angel– I’m so– I don’t– Please–” Bokuto struggled to keep his thoughts straight. Not when you stared at him with an iciness that pierced his heart every time he looked back into your eyes, hoping to find even the smallest trace of love left for him.

He let out a rough sigh, frustrated with his inability to speak through the racing of his heart. His hands, still cupping your face, lightly squeezed your cheeks to ground himself. He looked back to you, his eyes swimming with even more tears, trying to send a message to you that he couldn’t put into words.

You looked away from him, focusing on the ticking clock on the wall as you gnawed your lip. A question had been running through your mind ever since he cracked into your resolve to leave and pulled you to the sofa, laying his head in your lap.

Your eyes turned back to him.

“Can you tell me something, Bokuto?”

“Yes, yes, baby, of course. I’ll do anything you want.” He eagerly nodded, a small spark of hope sparkled within him.

“Why’d you lie?”

He felt as though you just dumped him into one of Atsumu’s god-awful ice baths.

“What’re you saying, angel?” His eyebrows furrowed. “I’ve never lied to you.”

“Earlier,” you croaked. “I asked you earlier how long you’ve been” — you couldn’t say that word; it’d hurt too much — “messing around.”

A glint of recognition passed his eyes.

Continuing, you forced your voice out, even though it grew weaker the more you tried to hide your pain, “You said that it was just this once. That wasn’t the whole truth, was it?”

Fuck. Bokuto took his hands away from your face, opting to grasp one of your hands in his. He gave your knuckles a kiss before looking back at you, his eyes teeming with unadulterated guilt and desperation.

“I-I knew them before this ever happened. We met at one of the team parties, but you weren’t there because you were at work.” He saw a glimpse of darkness shadow over your face, and his heartbeat picked up again (not that it ever really settled). “But we never did anything! Not until last night, at least.” His voice grew quiet at the end.

“And never once did it occur to you to tell them that you were taken?”

Bokuto’s lips started trembling — no doubt he’d begin crying again. He looked down, trying to avoid your glare, but his grip on your hand never loosened.

“Please, baby. I’m so sorry,” he choked out, “I’m so fucking sorry. I fucked up in the worst way possible. But I promise you, I never did anything with them before. We just talked at that one party. I promise you that. I promise, honey.”

The look in your eyes became even colder, even more distant; something akin to hatred was present as well. No, this couldn’t be happening. His worst nightmare was coming true. You’d finally learned the truth and were going to leave him. You might have called him your sunshine that one night two years ago, but, to him, you were his oxygen — without you, he was truly nothing. Just a corpse of a man, not worth wasting a breath on.

He was losing you. Again.

“I’m leaving, Bokuto.” You roughly pulled your hand from his grasp, ignoring his cries for you to please stop, to listen for just a minute longer. “Don’t you dare try to look for me.”

Bokuto whimpered, following you to where you were trying to pick up your bags in your haste of anger. Once again, he tugged at the straps, trying to steal them away from you, but his arms grew weak at the scowl pointed his way.

His breath quickened, and his heart raced. He was panicking, grasping at straws to have to rethink your choice and stay with him so he could apologise for the rest of both of your lives. He’d spend the remainder of eternity begging for your forgiveness if only you’d just stay with him.

But he couldn’t say a word. Not with his blinded panic, and definitely not with the terrible, agonising look you were giving him as you stared back at him.

Was this how you felt when he’d walked out on you last night? Hopeless. Defenseless. As if you weren’t even worth a grain of sand underneath the other’s shoe.

“Lovey, I’m sorry!” Bokuto cried out one more time, hoping that he’d reach out to whatever small piece of love you still held for him. “I said I’m sorry! Please just forgive me, don’t leave me. Please! I’m begging you! Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it a million times over. Just, please,” he quieted to a whisper, just barely reaching your ears, “stay with me, and we can get through this together.”

His face crumpled as he heard your responding scoff.

“There’s no more ‘together’ for us, Bokuto.”

Your words stung — well, they stung as much as a gunshot or a knife to the heart would sting. He pressed on, desperate to get you to hear him out.

“I’m your sunshine, right? Your dovey. Your babe. Your pretty boy. Your Koutarou. Right?” He gripped onto the hem of his shirt, balling his hands into fists. “No matter what you call me, I’m yours. And I always will be. Even if you leave me right now, I’ll never stop looking for you. You know why?”

You stayed silent.

“Because I am just as much your sun as you are mine.”

His words echoed in your mind — that twisted, gnawing feeling came back in your gut. You knew that if you stayed for one more minute, it’d be over for you, and you’d go running back into his arms that always held you so tightly. Into his arms that smelt like home. Into his arms that made you feel like you were on top of the world as long as he was by your side. Into his arms that held onto another once the two of you reached a rough patch.

You made your decision.

“Koutarou…” His head snapped up to look at you, his eyes wide and glittering with a false sense of hope. “I’m sorry. I have to leave.”

There was another feeling growing within Bokuto. It was ugly, festering in the deepest parts of his mind — coming from a place that refused to acknowledge his faults. This feeling, it blamed

you. Why would you hurt him like this? How could you hurt him like this? You said he was your sunshine, your dovey, your Koutarou! How cruel could you be to lead him on, calling him ‘Koutarou’ again? You said you loved him!

“Don’t leave me!” He raised his voice. This feeling was taking over him, and it was angry. “If you leave, I’ll-I’ll…” His voice trailed off as he tried to regain control of himself.

Your brows furrowed. He still had the energy to yell, huh?

“You’ll what?” You took a step toward him. He looked away from you, trying to avoid your burning gaze. “Tell me, Koutarou. What will you do if I leave?”

He shook his head; you knew what that meant — “I won’t say it.”

“You’ll go back to them, won’t you?” you scoffed. “Have fun, Koutarou.”

Adjusting the straps of your bags, you gave him one last glare before moving toward the door once more.

That feeling came back in Bokuto’s mind, and it was stronger than ever. Pounding against the walls he built up, it roared, telling him to make you regret hurting him, make you think twice about leaving him. Bokuto was panicking, his will to beg you to stay was growing weaker as the feeling inside him became increasingly angry at you for causing him so much pain.

He knew he’d regret the next words he’d say to you, but that realisation came a second too late.

“I’ll never forgive you!”

You froze. Turning back around to face him, your eyes narrowed. “What?”

“If you leave me, I’ll never forgive you!”

His eyes were burning into you, a raging fire behind them.

“You’ll never forgive me?” you spat.

As quickly as the fire grew, it was extinguished as Bokuto’s expression morphed into one of shock.

“Wait, baby, I didn’t mean it! I promi–”

Dropping your bags by the door, you strided toward his figure. Pushing him against the wall, you pulled him in by the collar, melding his lips with yours.

The kiss was rough, angry, desperate — an amalgamation of everything you’ve felt in the past few hours going back and forth with Bokuto.

You pushed yourself into the space between his legs as he finally recovered from his shock and tried to match your tempo, his hands pulling you close into his body. Your teeth clashed together, and you had half the mind to bite his tongue in your mouth, but you held back.

Raking your fingers through his hair, you pulled his head back, ignoring his small, pained whine. The offensive mess of red and purple blotches still covered the expanse of his neck. A scowl grew on your face.

Bokuto yelped as he felt your lips latch onto his neck, sucking your own bruises over the ones already existing from his escapade. You were rough, unrelenting in your nearly-primal way of claiming him.

Trying to ignore your satisfaction from hearing his whimpers of your name, you pulled away, looking at your series of marks covering the ones from his other lover. The two of you were left panting — him trying to meet your eyes and you trying to avoid looking at him at all costs.

Leaning into his ear, you placed a gentle bite on his lobe. He tensed ever-so-slightly.

“You’ll never forgive me if I leave?” you hummed.

His hands that were under your shirt, roaming across your back, froze.

“B-Baby, wait, I didn’t–” He tried to plead with you until your next words completely shattered what was left of his broken, battered heart.

“I think I can live with that.”

You quickly backed away from him, evading his attempts to grab at your waist to stop you from leaving, and picked up your bags by the door. Looking back at him one last time, you nearly broke your facade.

After all he’s done, you still loved your Koutarou — no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise — and seeing him on his knees, sobbing, begging you not to leave for the umpteenth time, your will was wearing thin.

“Goodbye, Koutarou.”

The slam of the front door echoed across the remnants of his shattered heart and all he had the strength to do was cry. Pulling at the strands of his hair, he sobbed, begging into the air, weeping with no one to listen to him.

Without you, his world had no sky; everything was bathed in the shadow of your absence.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

tags: @katelyns-stuff @random-fandom-girl-24

[cillspropertea]

No Fucking Way

Chapter 4: unwrap and untangle

Warnings: Mention of medicines and sedatives.

Y/N finds herself in a unique situation where her heart wants to believe everything but her mind wants her to repress herself to prevent heartbreak. The love of her life is miraculously close enough to touch but everything stops with the question, “Is any of this real?”

Authors note: I apologize beforehand to how medically incompatible this story will be, as I am not a professional doctor, just a fanfic writer with an idea she cannot contain in her head anymore. So, please, bear with me.

Word count: 1449

------

    My medicines were strong enough to knock a horse out. After indulging in two of those scrumptious doughnuts my phone had beeped to remind me of the medicines I had to take. I had gotten my phone back and was relieved and shocked at the same time when I’d turned it on and found out I was right. Cillian’s eyes were my home-screen wallpaper. The screen was cracked but it was still working. The doctors, however, had prohibited any use of the internet for now as I was a wife of a celebrity and a lot of rumors and speculations were on there that could easily effect my already damaged mental state. And if I really wanted to, I could use it under supervision.  Fair enough I guess. Even if it made me feel like a teenager again.

      Marie had put in the reminders on my phone as she did not trust me to take my medicines on time. She was right. But as soon as I had them I had started feeling sleepy. And then before I knew it, it was evening. The soft knock on the door had woken me up. It was Marie. After wobbling on my walking stick and hardly balanceable feet, as I was still sleepy as hell, I let her in. “Wow! Cillian went all out didn’t he!” she took in the room and then the box from Joan’s. Plopping on the bed next to me she helped herself on one. I was again about to fall asleep when she nudged me, not softly at all, “What?” I whined sleepily.”Are you sure you want to come with us Y/N?” I slightly sat up, the comfort of the bed and the coziest blanket was literally paralyzing me. I simply did not want to move. “What do you mean by that Marie? You know I am.” I said, irritated. “I just feel like you need to think about it a bit more.” She looked at me now, knowing fully well how I could never lie when she looked at me like that, when she cornered me with her stare like that. I sighed loudly looking at the ceiling, “Just tell me the truth. I want to… understand why, exactly, are you doing this?” I sat up, “You think of me as an enemy don’t you?” my voice low and full of hurt. “Why is it that difficult for you all to understand this that I need time?” I got out of bed and started to make a cup of coffee. I needed my brain to wake up.

      Marie was silent until I came back with two mugs of caffeine, one at a time, with the crutch and all, and handed one to her. “I understand how all of you want everything to go back to normal. And believe me, I want that too. But it’s not an option for me.” Marie nodded. Finally I could see my words getting through to her, so I continued. “In my mind I do not see Cillian as my husband. I do not remember our first meeting, any of our dates, any proposal not even my fucking wedding…” my eyes were tearing up now and I hated it. It made me feel pathetic and helpless, crying like that. “I am not saying I want to end it. I am also not saying I want to keep it. Because in my mind, Cillian was just a crush of mine.” Her brows knit together so I had to explain what my doctor had told me in the morning, after a psycho-analysis session with her. She had talked to me about a lot of things. About my childhood, about my school, even college. I could remember most of those things correctly but when it came to my relationship with Cillian, there was nothing. “Dr. Sophia said that it seems that my brain has, somehow, replaced some characters or people of my life with some others.” Her eyes widened, “So Cillian replaced…” “Jack Robertson, my crush from my teen years.” I completed. My case was unlike she had ever seen she had said. But that fact did not made me feel special at all. The Doctor had said that it would take several, ‘meetings’ and sessions to completely unwrap and untangle these wires in my head. And to fully understand the mess she or any other doctor from Istanbul that I was going to see after going back, would have to have some sessions with my other family members too. Setting the wires up back to ‘normal mode’ was another thing. “In short my mind is sort of fucked up. And to un-fuck it up I need time and patience…” I said, in the calmest tone I could muster up. I wasn’t lying. Just keeping a small part from her and everyone else, including the doctors. I had accepted the reality that everything and everyone around me was real. But I still felt like I had somehow travelled to another timeline and universe.

       Going back to Istanbul, I want to see for myself. My room, my stuff, the magazines which I am danm sure have to have Cillian’s face on them and that poster on the wall from ‘Peaky Blinders’. I knew all of them would think I’ve completely lost it and probably put me in a mental hospital but I needed something, I did not know what, but something to hold on to. Something to grasp this unbelievable reality with. Which is why I had decided to go with Marie and Mom. Marie rubbed her temple, “Fucking hell Y/N.” she slapped my shoulder, “Only you can choose something this fucked up to get sick with.” “I chose?...” I shook my head, smilling, “And here I thought I was getting through to you.” “ No no no no! I’m so sorry. I did not mean it like that.” She panicked, “And you’re right. We are being inconsiderate by forcing you to behave and act normal when none of this is normal at all.” Thanks God! She was using her brain again, “But!...” I rolled my eyes, “I want you to talk to Cillian too. Just like this. He deserves this. At least acknowledge his existence Y/N.” I nodded, she was right. “He is in pain. A lot of it. And about your relationship with him, you need to have him on the same page, kiddo. It works both ways. He needs to have the opportunity to decide if he wants to wait for you or not.” She was ripping the bandage now, I knew it, “You expecting him to wait ‘more’ without an explanation or taking in the fact that he did wait for you for two whole years is you being inconsiderate as well.” I nodded to that too. I had thought about it. I was danm ashamed of how I had treated him and hurt him, even if it was unintentional, he deserved an apology. But what if after hearing my thoughts and decision of putting our ‘married life’ on hold for a while does not sit well with him? And if he chooses to part ways, will I regret it later on? ‘Fuck!’ 

     “Marie?” yeah…” “Can you tell me what happened? At the night of the accident?” Her eyes widened before she looked away, “I just remember going to bed really tired. I had had to work two shifts that night, a colleague had bailed at the very last minute. Her name was Natasha or Natalia…” “Natalie?” she questioned. “Yes! That was her. I was so tired. And then I woke up in the hospital.” Marie’s mouth was opening and closing, “I know which night you are talking about.” “You do?” “That was the night Father had died.” She had pity in her eyes. “You were sleeping when he’d had the heart attack. Mother had screamed loud enough to wake the whole neighbourhood. But before the help could arrive…” “He was gone.” I completed. “I remember his face. I had hugged him before the paramedics had arrived. It was all so sudden.” Fuck! So if that was the night I remembered than that is a memory from ten years ago! “How did the accident happen Marie? What happened at the night of the accident?” I questioned her again. “I wasn’t here. And I feel it is not my story to tell. You have to ask Cillian.” She was avoiding the truth. Just the way she could tell my ticks I could tell hers. “Get up now. We need to go somewhere.” She said, looking at her wrist watch all of a sudden. “Where?” I asked, alert now. “Your home.”